TITLE: No Remedy AUTHOR: LittleMouse elf_night@hotmail.com PAIRINGS: Glorfinel/Erestor, also Haldir/Legolas, Elladen/Orophir, Elrohir/Rumil, Glorfinel/OFC RATING: NC-17 SUMMARY: Erestor loves Glorfindel. Glorfindel loves a certain Lady... doesn't he? A diplomatic mission to Lothlorien goes horribly wrong; Glorfindel learns what it means to be truly loved. WARNINGS: Violence, torture, angst, N/C but probably not to the point of rape, explicit sexual situations, etc. Enjoy! Also, story may be slightly AU as I'm playing freely with Erestor's background. DISCLAIMER: They are not mine. They are Tolkien's. Life is cruel, that way... CHAPTER EIGHT Glorfindel was furious. He didn’t care a bit that he was alone in this rather nasty cell, or that the threat of death was hanging over his head. He didn’t know if Erestor was safe, and it was driving him crazy! ...and he didn’t like the way that Man had been looking at *his* Counselor! He was just debating how hard it would be to rip the iron bars off the window with his bare hands when the door slammed open and three Men came in. They grabbed his arms and started dragging him down a hall. He went willingly enough - there was no chance for escape in that cell, but out here it was a different story. He was surprised when they didn’t lead him to another cell - or worse, to an execution chamber - but took him outside, instead. He looked around for a beheading stone or a hangman’s noose - those were Men’s preferred methods of execution, he knew - but once again, they managed to surprise him. They shoved him up on a ratty little horse, tied his hands together, and then led him from the courtyard. Instinct turned his head, made him look back at the fort. A small figure stood at one of the few large windows, watching as he left. Even at this distance, he was certain it was Erestor. He felt a growl rumbling deep inside his chest when he saw the larger figure of the Man lurking behind the small counselor. Saw him reach out toward the little, dark figure - - then the trees cut off his view, and he swore. * “All right - you’ve seen he’s gone. Safe. Now come with me.” The hand that grasped Erestor’s shoulder was firm, forcibly turning him away from staring at the spot where Glorfindel had disappeared. He was silent as he was dragged past Araden, who was protesting and pleading, and Riel, who was just blinking and looking rather confused. The Man called some of his soldiers in to prepare those two to ‘a cell apart from the others’, then he pulled Erestor into an inner chamber. The Counselor gave one last glance to Araden, who was gazing at him in open horror, then the door closed behind them. The man left him standing at the door and strolled into the room - it wasn’t a bedchamber, he was happy to see, but there was a wide, comfortable couch that gave him some qualms. The Man poured out two large glasses of wine and pushed one into his hands. “Drink that - it will settle your nerves. Don’t worry, my lovely, I have no intention of hurting you.” It wasn’t being hurt that Erestor was worried about. His hands were already shaking so hard he could barely hold onto the ornate goblet, but he lifted it and drained it, anyway. “There now,” the Man crooned, almost in his ear - when had he moved so close?! “That’ll make you feel better. Don’t worry, little pet, we’ll take this slow. We have plenty of time.” Those words weren’t exactly comforting. He allowed the man to take the goblet from his hands, but shied away from the touch against his cheek. “Now, now... we made a bargain, remember? I can always send soldiers on fast horses after them!” Erestor gritted his teeth, but forced himself to stand still as the hands moved through his hair, then to his neck, stroked his shoulders and began to unlace his tunic. “Take this off,” the Man ordered, his voice husky. Erestor shook harder, but obeyed, his own hands slow and reluctant as he pulled the loose tunic over his head. The larger hands were instantly on him, stroking his sides, fingers plucking at his nipples while the voice cooed over how pretty he was. He frowned, feeling oddly dizzy, and batted mildly at the exploring hands. The Man laughed. “I see the potion is beginning to take effect,” he murmured, pulling Erestor close and running his hands down his back, settling them on that lovely round bottom and squeezing almost reverently. “Wha’... potion...?” Erestor asked, wondering why his mouth felt like it was full of cotton-wool. “The one in the wine, of course. You may be small, but I know a fighter when I see one. It’s just to make you a bit more ...compliant. Nothing at all to hurt you.” He left one hand still cupping a firm cheek, while the other slipped up to trace Erestor’s lips. “I believe I know what I want to do first - I wonder how good you’ll be at it?” Erestor just blinked at him. He laughed again. * “Valar... oh, Valar...” Araden was pacing in the outer chamber, waiting for the Men to return and drag them off to their new cell, waiting for Riel to stop babbling about how Glorfindel would be so proud of her. Waiting to hear screams behind that door - but it was deathly silent. “What exactly *is* Lord Erestor doing in there?!” The Lady demanded suddenly, narrowing her eyes at the door. “Is he negotiating with that Man?” “Oh, you could say that,” Araden answered, feeling hysteria coming on. ‘Or, you could say he was letting that man rape him so your precious Warrior can live.’ He didn’t say that last bit out loud. He had no doubt this creature would scoff at the idea; he wouldn’t let Erestor’s sacrifice be laughed at. He hoped that blond Elf was worth it. Erestor had been hurt enough in his long life, by the family who was supposed to love him and by the Elves he took such splendid care of in Imladris - Araden was neither blind nor deaf, he’d heard the whispered jokes about his cousin while he was staying there. Once, he would have participated in them, but no more. Not after his darling little Isilia had been born. If Lord Glorfindel didn’t bond with Erestor for this, Araden was going become a kinslayer. Never mind that he had no idea how to handle a sword, he’d gut the Elf with a serving fork... Someone would *have* to bond with his cousin, after all - it was the only thing besides sailing for Valinor that might prevent him from fading. And if that Warrior didn’t think Erestor was a worthy mate, after what he’d agreed to do... Valar - it had been what? a half-hour since the Man had taken Erestor into that room? Lady Riel had stopped whining about her Warrior and was studying the decorations on the wall with a critical eye. Araden went to the door and listened hard - he heard the Man moan softly, and chills went down his spine. *Valar*... Erestor... He wanted to scream, to knock the door down and drag his little cousin out of there. How could anyone do this to an Elf - Erestor was going to fade, and he’d never truly been allowed to live! He couldn’t take this anymore - he couldn’t just roam around the room while *any* Elf, especially not his own cousin, was violated by a Man who didn’t care that the being he was forcing himself on would die because of his actions. He lifted his hands to start pounding on the door when a dozen soldiers burst into the room - - shoved him aside, and started doing the pounding for him. “Master! Master, you must come - we are under attack!” * Glorfindel sat quietly on the little horse, waiting for the perfect moment to strike out at these Men. The morons had only tied his hands loosely; he could be free in a few seconds. He might not have any weapons, but he had his fists, didn’t he? And he was one of the few Elves who knew how to use them. They weren’t five minutes from the fort when he started easing his hands free; at the same time, movement and sound in the woods ahead caught all their attention. Glorfindel looked up sharply to see Asfaloth standing there, the proud stallion’s eyes outraged at seeing his master on another horse! So, of course, he charged the scruffy little gelding. Glorfindel didn’t quite have his hands free, so he abruptly found himself sitting on his butt on the forest floor, watching as Asfaloth chased his former steed, screaming shrilly at the unfortunate beast. The Men just sat on their horses, gaping. Glorfindel got to his feet only to feel himself yanked back into the undergrowth. His startled exclamation was cut off by a hand clapped over his mouth - he stared up to see Elladan frowning at him warningly. “Where’d that Elf get to?” one of the Men in the clearing asked worriedly. “We got to slit his throat out here, or Master won’t be pleased with us!” “He prolly be hidin’ in the weeds,” another said, “start huntin’ for him!” All three swung down from their horses and began poking the underbrush with their swords. “Take them,” Elladan whispered, and the searchers were suddenly pounced by several dozen Elves. They were flat on their backs and bound up like trussed chickens before they could even squawk. “What’s going on? Where is everyone else?” Elrohir demanded of Glorfindel as soon as the Men were taken care of. “I’m not sure what’s going on - but everyone else is back at that Fort, I hope. Their ‘Master’ decided I would be too much trouble, and they were ordered to kill me.” “Erestor?” Elladan didn’t have to elucidate. “He’s back there, too.” “Unharmed?” “I’m not sure...” Glorfindel said, remembering Erestor’s hazy eyes and slow movements. “They brought him to the cell I was in much later than the others; and I think they may have given him some sort of drug, beyond the potion they used to put us to sleep.” “Why?” Elrohir’s eyes were worried. “Again, I don’t know.” But he could guess - if he had read the look in that Man’s eyes correctly. But he wouldn’t make the twins angrier than they already were by voicing vague suspicions. No, they just needed to get back there and rescue Erestor - and everyone else, of course! - right now. Right now. * There was a sudden, surprised yelp, then a soft thump inside the room - then angry footsteps approaching. “What’s going on?” the Man bellowed, yanking the door open. Araden saw his shirt was hanging open and his leggings were partially unlaced. His stomach attempted to climb out his throat. “We’re under attack, Master, by dozens of Elven Warriors! They wear the colors of both Imladris *and* Lothlorien! What shall we do?” “Are the defenses holding?” the Man demanded, adjusting his clothing and stalking toward the outer door, leaving the chamber open behind him. “For now, Master, but how long we can hold them off is uncertain. They are like devils, sir, possessed!” The Men all went out, their voices trailing away. Araden bolted for the inner chamber, stopping in the doorway and raking his eyes over the room. He didn’t see Erestor at first, and his heart tried to sink down past the stomach that was still working its way up. Then he saw a slight movement on the far side of the couch, and hurried forward. Erestor sat on the floor, his tunic gone but his leggings thankfully in place. His braid had been undone, leaving his hair a loose curtain of curls around him. His head rested on his bent knees and his slender arms were wrapped around them. The whole small figure screamed dejection. “Erestor? Please look at me,” Araden said, kneeling carefully and petting the soft hair. “Erestor, please! What did he do?” “A-Araden?” Big black eyes, oddly tearless, blinked up at him. “Where did... he go?” Erestor’s speech was badly slurred, like he’d spent an evening drinking. “Someone is attempting to rescue us. Erestor, what did he do?” “Gave... me some... thing... in wine...” Erestor tried to sit up straight and ended up listing against his cousin. “Araden?” “Yes?” “Help m-me... where is... my tunic?” Araden’s sharp eyes found it wadded up on the couch. He helped his cousin back into it and fastened the lacings for him when Erestor’s trembling fingers could not. “Erestor - did he...?” “N-no!” Erestor said sharply, finally managing to sit up straight. “No, he left... too soon. D-did you ...say rescued? Should ...we try to ...leave?” “Can you walk?” Araden asked, hauling the shorter Elf to his feet. Erestor swayed, but stayed upright. “I don’ ...know ...try.” “Erestor...” Araden slipped his arm around him. “You were in here for a half-hour - he had to be doing something to you.” The black eyes blinked, then lowered, refusing to look at him. “I don’ ...wanna talk ...’bout it...” “Erestor - you have to! Your Lord will need to know, and Glorfindel...” “No!” Erestor said sharply, his voice momentarily losing the slur. “No, Araden! Neither of them, and especially not Glorfindel! Tell neither!” “But Erestor - you’ll fade...” “I won’t! He didn’t do enough... to make me fade...” Erestor swayed against him again, starting to shake. “You... said you were... s-sorry... you make it up to ...me. Don’t... tell him. Them. Don’ want... them to know...” “He should bind with you, Erestor,” Araden said softly, not noticing the soft gasp from Lady Riel, who stood in the doorway. “He can make sure you don’t fade, that way.” “No! H-he doesn’t... l-love... I won’t force him into... no! Don’t tell him!” Erestor was sounding frantic, and Araden knew he needed to calm him down. “All right - all right, cousin. I won’t speak a word of it.” ‘Not unless I see you starting to fade,’ he added mentally, but not out loud. “Thank... you...” “But he’s an honorable Elf, I think - if he knew what you were willing to go through for him...” Araden tried one more time, leading his weaving, swaying cousin into the outer chamber. “No... you promised...” “All right.” He sighed dramatically, thinking of the way Glorfindel had leapt to Erestor’s defense earlier, when he’d been apologizing. He had a feeling his cousin was wrong about Glorfindel’s affections. Araden finally remembered that Lady Riel was there; he turned to find her watching them with a calculating look in her eyes. “Lady? Will you see if that door is bolted?” He nodded toward the outer door, needing both hands to hold onto the listing Elf next to him. She moved to it wordlessly, and flung it open just in time for Glorfindel, Elladan, and Elrohir - and dozens of Elves she didn’t know - to burst into the room. The first three ignored her, moving straight to Araden and his burden. “What happened?” Elrohir demanded, pushing Erestor’s hair back and peering into the vague eyes. “The Man gave him something to drink. It had some sort of potion in it.” “What was it intended to do?” “I don’t know,” he replied truthfully. “This is not good,” Elrohir murmured, then scooped his mentor up into his arms. “‘Fin? We need to get him to Imladris, and Ada.” “Yes,” Glorfindel said, his blue eyes wide with worry. “He’s had the potion they used to make us sleep, and I think they gave him a second one later, so this makes three.” Elrohir’s grip tightened, his eyes flashing angrily. “Find the leader,” he demanded of his Elves, “make him tell us what he gave Lord Erestor.” They nodded and left the room. Glorfindel would have dearly loved to snatch his Counselor out of Elrohir’s arms and cradle him in his own, but he knew he had duties to fulfill. Besides, Elrohir and Elladan would rather cut off their own legs than see more harm come to the dark Elf. “I’ll go and open all the cells.” “Good,” Elladan replied, glancing up from gazing worriedly at Erestor. “Gather them all out in the courtyard, and let us make sure no one is missing. Free every prisoner in this place, not just our own.” “Of course,” Glorfindel nodded, and nearly ran out of the room. The sooner he finished this, the sooner he could get back to his Counselor. Lady Riel watched him go, then turned back to stare at the limp form Elrohir was holding, glaring when she saw Elladan’s concerned eyes, saw an Elf she recognized as the MarchWarden of Lothlorien, Haldir, enter the room with an Elf wearing royal Mirkwood clothes, and they, too, spared her no more than a look. They clustered around Erestor, who was just gazing off into nothing. How dare they ignore her like this?! And Glorfindel - he’d not even spoken to her, to ask after her well-being! She remembered Araden’s soft words about binding and felt enraged - - then thoughtful. If Glorfindel was so honorable that strange Elves were sure he would bind with Erestor over the Counselor’s ridiculous actions... then he would be *certain* to bind with her! ...at least, after she told him her new little story...