Erestor's Torment

Erestor’s Torment
By Iamme
iammeiamme@hotmail.com
Ct1 NC-17
Warnings: Torture, Violence, possible Non-Con, AU. It’s morbid if you find such things offensive then don’t read it.
It’s not mine it belongs to Tolken.
Erestor is taken prisoner by dark elves.
Thanks to alex for betaing.
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Chapter One
Erestor rode forward, looking over the flowering landscape of Imladris. The summer heat beat down upon him. The light linen shirt allowed what light breeze there was to brush his skin.

He ran his hands over the midnight mane of the mare he rode. “I feel for you Mor-aglar. We’ll stop for water soon.” Erestor sighed, wondering why he had not yet found the troops. After twenty minutes or so, they arrived at a small stream and he let the mare drink. He took the moment to listen with his elven ears for any sign of the patrol.

There was nothing.

Something was most definitely not right. He would ride back and explain what he didn’t find.

He took a moment to fill his water skin before mounting the horse again. He liked to ride but the weather was making him grouchy. While it didn’t hurt him, it didn’t make him comfortable either.

A sudden intuition told him not to keep the letter from Elrond on him. Quickly, he tucked it under the saddle blanket.
He almost wished he had gotten lost. It would at least explain why he was unable to find the patrol. He knew they could blend in but they would not hide from him.

He rode for several more hours back towards the city. The heat dissipated as evening was approaching and a light rain had begun to fall. He could, however, still see the shimmering heat off the rocks and the smell of water on hot stone assaulted his nostrils.

Then he thought he saw movement.

He placed his hand on his sword, growing still; the formerriorrior in him coming to the forefront. He searched along the tree line, searching for any movement that didn’t flow like the surrounding elm trees. He listened and watched, remaining still for what felt like an eternity.

Slowly he began to move forward; watching, waiting for the slightest movement.

When the arrow flew, he wasn’t surprised. He managed to knock it away with a quickly drawn sword. He quickly dismounted and sent his mare off towards Imladris with a slap.

Several darkly cloaked figures rushed out at him. Swords as black as the cloaks they wore slashed towards him. He dodged, trying to avoid them, but was overwhelmed. Suddenly, a sharp pain entered his right side.He looked down to see one of the ebony blades impaled in his flesh.

Not enough to kill… not yet … They twisted it and his body stiffened.
Sweat began to form on his brow and a sickening feeling entered his gut.

He was not able to remember when he was disarmed, only that the blade kept twisting sending agony through his body. They pressed a foul smelling rag to his nose and mouth

He tried to fight it… but he was losing.

The blade kept him immobilized with pain, preventing any chance of struggle.
Darkness began to close in on him, and before long, it all slipped away.

Erestor awoke to the feeling of rain pounding against his body. The feeling of helplessness as he found his hands bound above his head, he could feel rough bark against his hands. The rope was biting in to his wrists as they strained to support his body.

He tried to reach out with his legs to find something solid…the feeling of empty space beneath him...it was too much.
WHACK!!!

Erestor tried to suppress a surprised cry as something landed across his knees. He could have sworn he heard them crack.

“Be Still!!”

The Noldor stopped struggling, letting his weight fall fully on his hands.
The strain was taking its toll on his arms. If he were ever released, he would be sore for quite some time.

The minutes dragged by uncomfortably. At least, it had stopped raining as the thick darkness faded into the soft colors of the dawn. The rain had only helped to make him more uncomfortable. The rope burns would surely be twice as bad from the water-swollen ropes.

The smell of meat made him realize he had not eaten in some time, his stomach growling in protest.
He tried to ignore it, tried to think of anything else. The agony of his burning muscles, combined with everything else, made him wish he could slip back into oblivion.

There would be no such luxury for him.

Suddenly, the ropes gave way, and Erestor hit the ground with a hard thunk followed by the sound of snapping bone.
Before he knew what had happened, hands were roughly pressing him to the ground. They tied his arms behind his back, making sure the broken one was in the most uncomfortable position possible.

They brought him swiftly to his knees, removing the gag. They forced his head back by wrapping their hands in his long dark hair. Someone grabbed his jaw and forced it open.

Something sickeningly metallic was poured into his mouth, and jaw jaw clamped shut. Still, he refused to swallow. Nausea was growing at the disgusting taste. Someone grabbed his nose, holding it. He tried to fight but his body forced him to swallow, the need to breath overwhelming the urge not to digest the foul liquid.

He let out a choked cry when they released him, dropping him to the ground. He felt a burning nausea growing in his stomach.

“If you throw it up, we’ll make you choke it back down.” The advisor cringed at the voice that was obviously enjoying his torment. Quickly, he made a silent plea. By the Valar, please don’t let it come back up. It felt like an eternity but his stomach settled some; he could feel the sweat running from his brow from the vicious nausea.

After a few more minutes, someone came and dragged the poor elf to his feet, replacing the gag. A rope was placed about his neck and roughly pulled forward. Erestor was forced to run, falling more than once, as he was dragged over rough terrain with no way to balance himself. He could feel the drug they gave him making his blood race but providing the energy he needed to continue. He could feel his hands trembling, the pain intense as it radiated through his broken arm. The sun was raging over head and the last thing he had had that even remotely resembled a drink was the foul concoction. His clothing had dried way too soon and was once again drenched, this time with sweat that poured from his dehydrating form.

Erestor was having more and more trouble keeping up with the quickening pace when suddenly his vision darkened some and the air-cooled. He could once again smell the foliage, the earth turning soft under his aching feet, at the same time the obstacles increased.

The advisor didn’t realize until too late that a log lay in his path, causing him to trip and land face first against it.
A flash of pain and the taste of blood filling his mouth. Slowly, he lifted his head, feeling the broken teeth.
Hands reached up to remove the gag, but hesitantly backed off with a resounding reprimand.

“Don’t remove it! Pick him up so we can be on our way. The hand wrapped around his arm and lifted him a bit roughly to his feet, guiding him around the log before letting go.

Evening was drawing near when he felt rock under his feet. His stomach was once again upset this time from swallowing blood and teeth. It was swallow or choke. He could feel the coolness of the stone as he was forced forward into a cave. Slowly they spiraled down into the depths. Conversation of soldiers, and the moans of prisoners filled his ears.
Erestor could hear the whining hinges of a metal door before being herded forward.

His heart jumped to his throat.
He was led through a door and heard it slam shut, greeted by the d ofd of a voice that was as cold as it was smooth.

“Welcome counselor, we have been expecting you.”

A leather glove caressed his cheek lightly as if admiring a fine piece of art. “I am Morcorban and you are my guest. Take him inside.” Erestor was suddenly dragged forward and down a long hall, where he heard the heavy squeaking of old metal hinges before being pulled inside. The room smelled of old blood and other things he didn’t wish to think of. Once inside, Erestor was forced to his knees and the gag quickly removed. A cup was placed to his lips and he instinctively started to drink. Only when he realized it was the same liquid that had been forced upon him earlier did he try to pull away. Strong hands held him, forcing his battered jaw open.

His heart beat madly in his chest, a cold fear rising in him. He didn’t even want to begin to think about what this room held for him.

“Why can they not ever do it the easy way?” An amused voice questioned.

“I think they like the torture.” Replied a laughing voice.

They forced the Noldor’s jaw closed, waiting till he swallowed before they untied him.
When the bonds were loosened, the elf kicked out, connecting with soft flesh, then a resounding snap. Quickly, he landed his elbow in the other tormentor’s stomach, giving himself enough time to rip off the blindfold. The nausea was beginning to rise in his stomach again yet he forced himself to land another kick, this time to the jaw of the dark figure before him. The resounding pop let him know his effort was successful.

Erestor heard the door open and several figures running towards him. He managed to make it to his feet before they reached him, looking for anything to defend himself. His hand wrapped around a small knife and he quickly plunged it into the first figure approaching, causing his opponent to scream in pain as it caught him through the eye, causing him to quickly fall back. The harder he fought, the more of them there seemed to be. Grabbing at him from all sides, they managed to restrain him. Chains clicked in to place, locking his hands behind his back once again. He had felt several more cracking noises from the previously broken arm, and on his left side, he had a dislocated shoulder.

Once they had him restrained, two elves held him in place by his arms, waiting. Taking this time to view the surroundings, he began to realize how dire the situation was. Chains hung from everywhere. Various trays of implements sat on tables, a chair with chains attached. Old blood stained the walls and floors in several places as if paint had been thrown around the rood. The flickering torchlight only added to the macabre scene before him.

A few moments later, a tall slender elf walked through the metal door with a loud rattle. His hair was an odd occurrence for an elf. Midnight curls spiraled down his back and eyes just as dark regarded the eldar much like a parent would an unruly child. The being glided over, his pale flesh the only thing not dark. Even the robes he wore were made of black velvet. A long finger tilted the abused elf’s head so their eyes met.

“Welcome to my home, counselor. We are going to get to know each other quite well, you and I.”

“Why am I here?”

“Tsk, Tsk, I am the one who is asking the questions. Your job is to listen and answer to the best of your ability.”

Erestor licked his lips, tasting the dried blood, causing him to shudder. Making things worse was the shaking feeling returning to him, and the combined effects of the drug and the pain were causing sweat to pour off his body.

“I won’t tell you anything.”

The dark one smiled. “Already so defiant and we have not even started yet. I think you are going to have a long night, Erestor. I have heard that representatives are coming from Mirkwood and Lorien. Do you know anything about this?”
The advisor glared up at the dark lord, refusing to speak.

“Mmmmmm…. I see…you want to be loyal, brave, and honorable.. Unfortunately, this is not going to help you here… I am going to give you 10 seconds to answer my question.” Snapping his fingers at a person off to the side, he slowly and patiently watched the kneeling eldar.

“ 1, 2, 3…” The countdown continued at a slow steady rhythm.

“10…. Very well then. Have it your way.” A heavy cloth quickly covered Erestor’s face. When he tried to struggle, a booted foot landed on the back of his legs to further restrain him. Pain raced through his body

He could barely breath through the tight cloth then the water began to pour slowly over it. Gasping for breath, he tried to free his hands only causing further damage to his present injury. The pain was, however, over-shadowed by the panic that welled in his mind. It felt as if he would drown behind the heavy wet cloth.

Erestor tried to free him self only to be rewarded with a hard fist to the stomach. “Now Counselor, tell me what I want to know. Tell me, tell me now! “ The wet cloth was pulled away from the shaking elf.

“What did you give me?” whispered Erestor.

The dark elf before him smiled. “Just a little potion, it will keep you from slipping in to reverie dear Erestor.

Erestor tried to bite back the fear that was threatening to over throw his senses as the towel was placed back over his head. This time, however, was different. The water did not flow. Instead he could feel his shirt being cut away. Erestor struggled to breath through the wet towel, his lack of oxygen weakening him. A hand brushed lightly up over his stomach.

“If you do what I ask, I sen send you to Mandos in a dignified and quick manner. Or…. I can make it most tormenting….” Erestor flinched as the hand brushed over his most intimate of parts. Water began to bubble through the cloth as his breathing quickened. The guards grip tightening as his muscles tensed. “Come on Erestor tell me… Elrond has a chance; he may defeat us. Not likely but possible. You, however, will not. For you, there will be nothing but pain, pain of every type. There will be no escaping, not even to Mandos till I am done with you. Are you ready for that, counselor? Is it worth it?”

The elf motioned the guards to again remove the towel. “Is it, Erestor? Is your lord worth this pain?” Erestor just gave a slow nod and let his eyes fall closed, waiting for what they would dish out next.

“Closing your eyes will not help you.” A leather-clad hand slid down his face in a gentle caress. It was quickly followed by a bone shattering punch to his jaw. Erestor tasted copper as blood began to flow from broken teeth. His head hung to his chest, the blood running over swollen lips and dripping to the dirty stone floor.

They finished stripping him down before carrying him to a metal box on the far side. “I will give you sometime to think on things, dear Erestor. Perhaps you will be more cooperative later.” They pushed Erestor in to the confined space and locked the door. Only a few small holes for him to breath through allowed any light, then that was gone as well as the torches were extinguished. He sat in the darkness. Unable to sit up, he rested his head against his knees. If only he could slip in to reverie but the cursed drug prevented him from doing such. He could hear the cries of other prisoners as he sat locked away like some item that had just been forgotten. How long could he endure what they would inflict on him before giving in? The exhaustion was already setting in and when that happened, his defenses would slowly crumble. He wrapped his shaking hands tighter around his knees, trying not to think any more.

It was hours later; at least that was how it seemed when the torches flared to life. The sound of a struggling prisoner could be heard, then the sound of a booted foot hitting flesh. Erestor tried to maneuver to see what was happening. He could see a blur through the small hole. All he could make out was a blond elf being beaten repeatedly by the guards before two of the guards dragged the dazed elf to a hard wooden chair by the wall. They pushed him in to it, chaining arms and legs securely and tying a piece of leather about his throat leaving barely enough room for him to breath. Erestor closed his eyes, not wanting to see any more of what would happen. He could hear the footsteps and the sound of something being sharpened. He wanted to cover his ears not to hear but somehow it did not seem fair. If this elf would have to endure it, then he could at least not turn away. It did not take long for the questions to begin. “Tell me young one, when are they planning to attack?” Erestor smiled vaguely as the sound of spitting could be heard. At least the young one had not lost his spirit from what they had done to him.

“This is the hand you shoot with, is it not?”

Erestor felt his stomach tighten at the question directed at the poor soul in the chair.

It was but moments later that he heard the sound of something cutting through bone and flesh, and then the screaming began. He tried not to listen any more but it was impossible block it out. Everything seemed too real. He listened as they tormented the elf. He started out hurt but determined; slowly piece by piece, he begin to crumble at each new torment before he could hear the sound of failure in his voice as he gave in. The blond couldn’t have been more than three hundred years old, probably his first mission even. He could hear his tears as he told them everything before they gave him something to drink, then the room went silent for a moment before he heard them drag him out.

Footsteps moved towards his little prison and Erestor couldn’t keep from shaking as the smooth voice reached his ears.

“I hope you enjoyed that. It will be your turn soon. Think upon it, counselor, would it not be better to give in now? You’ll tell me what I want one way or another.” Erestor tried to suppress the scream that was trying to work it’s way out. He would have plenty of chances for that he was sure. “Why do you all have to be so brave?” Inquired the mocking voice. “It doesn’t help you. It only adds to your pain when you are finally broken. The next time you hear foot steps in this room, they will be coming for you.”