Title: Blood and Torture Author: Wagner Pairings: Saruman/Gríma ; Ringwraiths/Haldir Summary: Gríma is treated bad by his master. When he flees, he finds an Elf caught by Ringwraiths and tries to rescue him. Successlessly. Warnings: BDSM, torture, rape, graphic violence, graphic sex Feedback: I am begging you! dracula_1889@hotmail.com Author's Note: I think I am the only person who ever wrote about the Ringwraiths. He had been sitting in the caves all afternoon, thinking of how wrong everything was. When he had entered the caves earlier that day, he had watched the Orcs forging swords and working hard for their master Saruman. But in the course of time he had stopped watching them. He was only thinking then. Was that how he had wanted it to be? Gríma knew his plans had been different. When Saruman had asked him for becoming his servant he had promised him so many things. Wealth, glory, joy,... Gríma was not having any of this now. He was lonely. All his life he had only wanted to have a friend, to know there would be someone there he could go to in sadness, someone to be his friend. But never had anyone wanted to be this. They all had pushed him away - always. Gríma had never experienced love nor friendship. No one loved him. He knew that. And perhaps this was his reason to join Saruman. Having a friend. Being together with someone he thought to be a good person that liked him. Saruman did not like him, which he had found out quickly. Saruman only needed his ability to influence other people's minds. And he did not like failure. Gríma wrapped his arms around his body for he froze from sitting there in the dark. He was afraid of Saruman. This wizard treated him not better than a slave. Whatever he ordered had to be done, even if Gríma knew it was impossible for him or just did not want to. But he could not disobey Saruman's orders. He was his master after all, and perhaps deep in his heart, he DID like him, Gríma thought. Be the man doubted his thoughts as quick as they had come to his mind. "You crawling worm, where are you?" He heard the voice of his master. Quickly Gríma rose to his feet to rush to Saruman as fast as he could. He did not want to make him angry by being late after his call. As soon as he could manage with his beautiful long robes, Gríma rushed upstairs into the working room of his wizard master. There he stood before him - Saruman, the White Wizard, noble in his appearance but scaring all the same. An evil glance lay in his black eyes. "You were told to feed my Crebain, weren't you?", the Wizard asked slowly. Gríma looked up to him, Saruman was much bigger than he was himself. "I did, master!", the black-haired man replied. "I have given them some meat earlier that day!" But Saruman only rose his chin higher which made it nearly impossible for Gríma to see his eyes. Perhaps he was glad for that. "They told me different things!", Saruman said. "They said they were hungry. Does that mean my worm has disobeyed my orders?" "No!", Gríma quickly cried. "I..." But the glance of his master's eyes made him stop. Saruman looked as if he was really angry with him. "I told you to obey my orders!", he grumbled. "And you do what I tell you to do, don't you, worm? My snake always does what he is told. He follows me and obeys me, does he not? Worm, does he not?" Gríma wished to pull away his head from the stare of the White Wizard in front of him but he dared not move. "I do what you want me to!", he winced instead. "You know that, my Lord! I obey you - always!" Saruman lifted a brow. "Come here!", he said quietly. Gríma swallowed. He was so terribly afraid. Why didn't his Lord stop? Could he not sense how much he tortured his servant only through his words? But as usual Gríma obeyed and did what he was told. So he came closer to Saruman. And suddenly he felt the terrible pain of a huge hand slapping against his cheek. Gríma tumbled and fell to the side. He crashed to the ground hard. His hand moved to his sword belt where Gríma kept his dagger. He did not mean to stab his master but his natural instinct made him touch his weapon. When he was riding alone he could never know who might try to rob him and attack. But saruman noticed the gesture. Anger flashed in his eyes, and he bend his back to be able to reach Gríma was some more slaps. The man, who was dressed in long black clothes, screamed quietly and crawled away from the one standing over him. "No, my Lord, please!", he begged. Saruman grabbed his collar and pulled him up to his feet. "Do not ask me to change my plans, worm! I am your master and you are below me. I will neither accept failure nor insolence!" And with this he threw the limp body of his servant against the wall. Gríma sank down to the ground. He moaned for he felt pain in his bones, but he did not move for he did not want to draw even more attention to himself. But he was not lucky. Saruman was already there, beneath him on the ground, pushing his shoulders against the black wall of his tower. Gríma only lost a little sob when he realized what the wizard was off to. Roughly the hands of the old Istar pushed their way under his cloak and teared it from the body of the man. Gríma did not defend himself. He only sobbed quietly while Saruman continued tearing the clothes from his upper part of the body. Light white flesh was exposed when Saruman lay his shoulders free. Gríma tensed for he feared the worst to happen. Swiftly Saruman moved around him so that he was kneeling behind Gríma. His face was so awfully near to Gríma's neck that he could feel the breath of the Wizard on his skin. Gríma shuddered. "So it is time to make clear once more who is the one to give you orders!", Saruman said firmly. "And you should know who is the one to follow those orders!" And with this, Gríma realized that the Wizard had teared down his black velvet trousers as well. Saruman needed quite a while to push away all his clothes that he could start showing Gríma who was the master. When he had done so, the whining servant felt how he slowly pushed himself into him. It hurt so much, Gods, did that hurt! But saruman found his way inside and did not care the other one was suffering. For a second none of them moved. But then Saruman made his first move, and Gríma's face turned into a mask from all the pain he felt. Saruman pushed into him quicker and ignored all the begging noises he heard from the one before him. Soon his groaning was even louder than Gríma. The man noticed that tears were running down his cheeks but he did not care because he concentrated too much on the pain within him. Saruman groaned leeringly. He grabbed the shoulders of his servants to stop him moving and hold him close, and Gríma dared not to say a single word. He was afraid of the Wizard. Saruma's fingers were hurting his shoulders, and another part of Saruman seemed to tear him apart in the middle. And then the White Wizard came. His servant only swallowed a scream when he felt the liquid floating into him, Saruman making a final groan. THe seed of his master ran down his thighs, and perhaps it was also blood that he felt, but as soon as Saruman had regained his control over himself, he quickly rose to his feet again, leaving the wheeping little servant on the floor, half-naked´ hurt and bleeding. Saruman walked to one of the windows and had a look outside. His robes were as clean as they had been before, and he appeared as mighty and powerful as before. Nothing on him showed what he had done. Just Gríma remained crouched on the floor, leaning against the wall. When he did not stop wheeping, Saruman moved towards him again. A shoe kicked hard into Gríma's side so that he curled his body in protection from any more violence. Saruman kicked one more time and yet another. Then he steppes ways, leaving Gríma utterly lost and lonely on the floor. The man did not know how long he was lying there. He did not move and did not stop crying, too. He was unsure if he cried for the pain or for the humiliation that had been done to him. He only thought of how he had imagined it all to be, so contrary to how it had become Haldir of Lórien lay on his bed, his eyes to the ceiling of his wooden flet. The Elf watched the night sky, and the stars made his light blue eyes reflect and shine. Just like his hair, his beautiful silver hair. The Elf looked like a glimmering and shining statue, too beautiful to be alive. And he hardly moved, being just the devine sight to every Elf that passed the flet. "Haldir?" A familiar voice made the Guardian of the Golden Wood look up. When he saw the face of his youngest brother Rúmil, a huge smile came to his lips. "My dearest one!", he invited him in. Rúmil was followed by Orophin, another brother who was younger than Haldir but older than Rúmil. All three of them looked quite similar though they were all very different in stature and appearance. Haldir sat on his bed to offer his brother a place to sit down as well. Rúmil sat next to him, and Orophin found a free space at the corner of the bed. They smiled at their brother, all three brothers being totally happy to be together. "Rúmil and I wanted to go for a walk!", Orophin said. "Do you want to be with us? We could go swimming in the lake!" Haldir's eyes shifted from brother to brother, as he looked at them sweetly. "This is kind of you to ask!", he said. "I am just so tired. Would you mind going without me? I fear I could be awake again as soon as I am in water. And I would like to have a sleep tonight! Is that alright for you, dear brothers?" Orophin looked disappointed but Rúmil lay a consoling hand onto Haldir's shoulder. "It is fine with us, truely, Haldir! We will be happy to see you again tomorrow then!" Haldir smiled. "Thank you!", he replied. "And enjoy yourselves!" The younger brothers of the beautiful Elf stood up again and moved towards the steps of the flet. Rúmil set a food onto the first stair when Orophin turned around one more time. "But it could be dangerous if you decided to follow us later on!", he said to Haldir. "You carry no weapons, for we are usually behind you to protect you. When you walk alone, you will be quite defenseless without us! Regard this if you would want to come with us later!" Haldir paused for a second and thought of his brother's words. It was true, they were his protectors. The Guardian did not like to be armed for that would look unfriendly to visitors of the Golden Wood, but his brothers were always close to his hand, not hesitating to shoot an arrow if someone bothered Haldir. He was never alone when he went somewhere outside the protected Galadhon, and when his brothers were swimming, there would be no other Elf to stand behind him. But Haldir shook his head. "I will not follow!", he said. "I am just going to sleep now. Do not worry because of your oldest brother!" Orophin marvelled. But he trusted Haldir with everything the Elf did, and he belived him when he said he was not going to follow. Haldir looked tired, he even noticed. And the two younger brothers left, not without saying Good-bye once again to the silver-haired brother. Haldir lay down on his bed again. =^..^= Gríma's shoulders were still red and aching, just like his back which still hurt when he moved too quickly. The "treatment" of his master had been successfull if it should have been to hurt him. And blood was still running down his thighs when he did a wrong move. Something inside him must have been damaged very well when Saruman had entered him. The black-clothed servant sighed and huddled when he remembered what had happened last night. He was alone in his room. There were many rooms in the Orthanc though not many of them inhabited. They all looked quite the same, black walls all around and a stone which looked as if being wet, always reflecting any light. Gríma sat with his back to the door because in this direction he had placed his bed. It faced the window, as he was doing now. He could not see outside but just the fact he was facing the window made him feel well. He nearly clutched his own body, so tight did he huddle together. There he heard footsteps approaching. Gríma gasped because he feared Saruman was coming, and as it often was the case, the Man was totally right. It was his master who stood behind him. A strong hand placed itself onto Gríma's shoulder and made the Man snarl at the touch. Nearly the same place the Wizard had gripped before. At least Saruman remembered. Gríma felt the hand stroking his cloak. "I liked the noises you made last night!", he heard Saruman's voice. The body of the Man stiffened for fear was rising in him very quick. He did not move but he knew Saruman was standing very close behind him, looking down at the crouched little body and leering. Did he really want to humiliate him one more time? Had it not been enough what he had already done to him? Gríma raised his eyes in fear. The Wizard caught his eyes and his own sparkled with lust. Slowly he raised his right hand, and in it he held something that looked like a whip. Gríma's eyes widened in shock. He jerkes up and tried to jump away from his seat, but Saruman was quicker and pulled him by his cloak. Gríma fell back, screaming loudly. To stop the screams, Saruman sat onto him and pushed his tongue into the Man's mouth. The screams could not be heard any more though Gríma was still yelling for help. Saruman held his arms and pressed his own weight down onto his captive, so that Gríma could not really move or resisit against the attack. "Do this again, my snake!", Saruman soothed into his ear between kisses to his mouth and his throat. "Weep again and beg me to stop! I liked it so much last night!" Gríma felt how Saruman's hands moved up to his wrists. Soon one was bound in a piece of leather. The man tried to pull away his other wrist but Saruman was just too strong. He bound his wrists together and pushed them up to bind them to the wall. Gríma was on a lead now. His hands were over his head. Bitter tears were running down his light cheeks. Saruman kept on kissing him. He licked and sucked and devoured his servant all over. Gríma's skin turned red and blue, and it was all wet from Saruman's tongue. But the whip was still in the hand of the wizard. he intended more than just kissing, didn't he? Gríma rolled his eyes closed. "You are not yet whining!", Saruman whispered. "Does it need more than that? Well, I am willing to give it to you then! I hope you own another dress, crawling worm!" And with this he gripped Gríma's collar to tear his clothes from his upper body. Gríma started screaming again, and again he found a tongue plunged into his mouth to stop him. Meanwhile his clothes were dragged off him completely. Gríma struggeled as much as possible. It wasn't enough. Without stopping to speak one more word, Saruman touched Gríma everywhere. The man was pulling at his bonds. Useless. he was hoping to survive it. Helpless. And then Saruman brought back the whip into his view. While licking his chest, he started to throw down lashes onto the one beneath him. He did not plan where to hit Gríma, he was just beating him. Cruelly. Gríma's face turned to a grimace with each lash that fell. Blood was running freely over his naked skin and wetted Saruman's white robes. If this would be another reason for the wizard to turn angry, Gríma thought himself to be lost. Suddenly Saruman pushed Gríma from his backside and the man's body turned. Gríma fell onto his face, and his back was exposed to Saruman. the wizard watched only for a few seconds how Gríma moaned in pain when his wounds touched the floor.Then he lay onto him and licked his throat from the backside, stroking his skin down to his buttocks. Saruman lifted his body. He was sitting on Gríma now, and the back of his servant lay seductively in front of him. Why should he not go on with his beatings? It caused him so much pleasure! And so he did. Saruman whipped Gríma's back until as well there blood was streaming. Gríma wound his body in agony and gasped and wept. This made Saruman stiffen. He touched his own prick and guided it forth to Gríma's bleeding entrance. "I have a present for you!", he whispered. "Close your eyes!" And he pushed his member into the opening of his wheeping victim. Saruman rode Gríma cruelly, causing him pain the man thoguht he was unable to bear. He moved creully inside the Man and did not cause him any pleasure. Hitting Gríma's sweet spot did not make the Man happy. Where the hell was fun in THAT? When Saruman finished, he collapsed onto Gríma's back with a deep moan. He was breathing heavily and caressed the wounds on Gríma's back with his sharp fingernails. Every time the Man tensed and felt the pain of blood pouring out of the scars. Scars that would never fade and remain a life-time. Finally Saruman got up and went away. he left Gríma bound to the wall. When he returned, he freed the Man from his bonds, and his hands were cut from the leather and bleeding. Everything was bleeding. Gríma ran away with the tatters of his clothes that still were on the floor. =^..^= The day was gone, and the moon was already climbing up the night sky. Everything was so peaceful and still. Only Gríma made noises when he ran away as quick as his wounds allowed him to. The grass under his feet and the leaves of the trees he passed made lovely noises through the wind. The flowers looked blue, and everything shone in the light of the rising moon. When Gríma remembered the last night, he was surprised when he thought that Saruman had not killed him after the Wizard had noticed his white robes were red from Gríma's blood. He sighed in relief. Saruman the Red had let him alive. But suddenly Gríma saw something ahead and stood still. He clutched a tree that was standing nearby and watched the scene he had noticed before him. His breath turned quiet. He carefully watched what was happening over there. He saw three Ringwraiths. And an Elf. The Elf was lying on the ground, desperately struggling against the two Ringwraith who held his arms and pushed him down. The thrid Ringwraith was standing over the Elf, his hands at his cloak as if to lift it up. Gríma's eyes widened in alarm from what he saw. Quickly he left the protecting tree and walked over to the Wraiths. "Leave the Elf alone!", he called over. Everyone was looking up. "It is none of your business, Man!", the Ringwraith who stood hissed, a voice without sound and only a faint whisper. "We caught him here, and now he's ours!" Gríma shuddered. He looked down to the Elf that was so scared and afraid. His light blue eyes were wide in shock, and he wore no weapons, only a beautiful fabric that looked expensive and suited him well. The Elf was so beautiful, even in his state of sheer fear, and Gríma felt he had to help him through this. He looked away and caught the eye of the standing Ringwraith. "I do not wish to anger you!", he said calmly. "It's only that this Elf does not seem to be happy with what you do. Release him and hunt somebody else. He is afraid of you!" The Ringwraiths looked at one another. "He is ours!", one of them finally hissed, and all three of them suddenly went on with what they had done before. The two on the ground pushed the Elf down, and the third Wraith was opening his cloak to reveal something he wanted to use on the Elf. The Elf screamed and tried to kick the Wraith, but three were stronger than one. He could not move his arms to defend himself, and he saw the danger approaching and coming closer. "Leave him alone!", Gríma shouted. He was really angry now. They were going to do to the Elf what Saruman had done to him. They were to rape him! Gríma could not let them do this. But now he had made the Wraiths angry as well. "So you really want to help this...Elf!", one of them spat out with his voiceless voice. "Alright, we can take him away so that you do not have to watch us. But you will come with us, dear Man, for now you are ours, too! Get him!" One of the Wraith that had held the Elf and the one who had stood rushed over to Gríma and caught him by his arms. The Elf could not move in shock but when he realized he could escape now, the Wraith that was still with him bent down and filled his mouth with something that seemed to be its tongue. The Elf rolled his eyes and fell into blackness, poisened by black breath. "No!", Gríma screamed. "No!" But also he felt the icy breath of the dead Ringwraith on his face. He fainted peacefully. At the end there were three Ringwraiths standing, and two captives lying sleeping on the ground. =^..^= The Elf awoke when he was pulled to his feet by something very tall. A Ringwraith. "Awake! Awake!", it hissed. The Elf was awake so sudden that he felt dizzy the first moment. "What?", he tried to ask but he noticed he was still dazed. He felt drugged, sick, and he only wished to close his eyes and fall into deep sleep once more. But the Ringwraith would not let him. "You are so beautiful!", it whispered. "I had noticed from the second I smelled you at the borders of the Woods. And now you are mine! Only mine!" Haldir struggled. "Please!", he said and realized he said it much slower than he had intended to. "Let me go! I have not done anything to you!" The Wraith made a sound that appeared to be a laugh. "Done nothing to me!", it repeated. "But what forbides me to do something to you then? Oh, you are so beautiful..." Its face came near to Haldir's and touched his soft white skin. The touch felt ice cold, and Haldir jerked back. The Ringwraith laughed again. "You never felt a Wraith's skin before, did you?", it asked. "Never felt the bones and the loose flesh that is dead for already centuries! I will show you everything you wish. Every inch of my sinew body. I will full you with myself!" Haldir wimpered and tried to pull away so desperately. But the Wraith cuaght his wrists and quickly chained them together with a silver glittering ion chain. Haldir saw he was bound but could not do anything against it. he sank down to the floor and saw the Wraith going down with him. "Please don't do this!", he whispered hardly audible. "Please...Please..." The Wraith touched his clothes and took them between his finger bones. It opened the buttons and slowly undressed Haldir. The Elf closed his eyes not to see the desaster. After a long, long time, he lay naked on the ground, the Wraith over him. Haldir looked into the blackness of the Wraith's hood in hope to find eyes to soften through his desperate looks. "I am begging you!", Haldir said one more time. "Please don't do this! Please put on my clothes again! I am much better looking when I am happy!" The Wraith caressed his cheek. Haldir could not pull back when his head touched the stoney ground. "Be submissive!", the Wraith whispered, nearly like a friend. "I am not going to kill you. Just want you to suffer. To be my prey and slave for this one night! Only for this one night mine..." Tears came out of Haldir's closed eyes. he did not see the Wraith undress. Did not see the sinews that were his body, and the bones that held everything together. It might have been better not to see it. "Be brave!", Haldir told himself. "Think of your beloved brothers! Don't die! They cannot go on without you! Ignore the Wraith! It is not hurting you! It is doing nothing! Nothing!" But when the Wraith entered him, its cold of death penetrated his opening, Haldir screamed, screamed and screeched as he had never done before in his life. =^..^= Gríma pressed his hands against his ears. He could not hear the Elf scream. He could not bear he had not rescued the Elf from his tormenters. But what would he have been able to do, actually? Anyway, Gríma got mad when he heard Haldir screech in agony and fear. Why this Elf, why this beautiful Elf? =^..^= Haldir was rocking under the Ringwraith's thrusts, everytime hitting the stone floor with his beautiful face. It was alreay getting bruised. He tried to think of other things, nice things, but failed bitterly. It was such a torment under the Wraith. When the Wraith had its climax, it quickly left the Elf's body. It turned him around so that Haldir was lying on his back now. The Elf crouched and wept quietly. When the Wraith touched his side, Haldir jerked up. Soon the Wraith began licking the curve of the Elf's side. Its tongue felt surprisingly wet but Haldir did not know whether this was a blessing or a course. The Ringwraith worked its way up until it reached Haldir's nipples. It took one into its mouth, sucking and biting the vulnerable flesh, while its other hand was pinching the other nipple. Haldir shielded his face with his hands that were still bound with the ion chains. Tears crept down his cheeks pauselessly. Suddenly the door flew open, and both Haldir and his dominator looked up. The other two Ringwraiths had entered the rooms, hoods still on their dead faces. "We heard you are already working on the Elf!", one of them hissed. "But you forget he is ours just the same as yours!" The Wraith that lay on Haldir snarled. A terrible sound in the ears of the Elf. "You can come and join me!", it said. "I already made him submissive for us! Never had a slave as acquiesitive as him!" The other two Wraiths looked down onto the shivering naked flesh of Haldir and leered. "With pleasures!", one of them whispered in its wraithy voice. Then both of them undressed, too. Soon there were three Wraiths on Haldir. One was plunging its tongue into the Elf's ear. The other one was licking his throat, the sensitive skin at his collum of the throat. And the third one was at Haldir's navel, kissing it, licking. They went on for a time that seemed a lifetime. Then they started even worse things than just kissing. One Wraith pushed its member into Haldir's mouth, forcing him to suck at it. Another took Haldir's own prick into its mouth, doing the same the Elf was forced to do. Haldir was lifted up with his legs and felt the third Wraith at his entrance again. The ion chains made terrible sounds on the floor every time Haldir moved his hands in a desperate attempt to resist the torture. Three Wraith were fucking him at three differrent places. Haldir somehow wished to be dead, if only the pain could stop through this. =^..^= The door to Gríma's cell was smashed open, and before the Man could realize, the Wraiths threw Haldir onto the ground. The closed the door with a loud sound, leaving Man and Elf behind the locked wood. Quickly Gríma crawled over to the Elf who was lying crocuhed and sobbing on the floor. "Hey!", he whispered carefully. "Elf!" Gríma touched Haldir to show him he wasn't alone, but the Elf jerked up and tried to crawl away in panick. "No!", Gríma called to soothe him. "I am not hurting you! I am a friend! Do you remember?" Haldir looked up, terrified blue eyes. But then he recognized Gríma. Haldir wrapped his arms around his nakes body. "Why are you here?", he asked, still puzzled and dazed. "You let yourself be incarcerated just to protect ME! I.. I... What...?" "Shhh!", Gríma interrupted. "Be quiet, Elf!" He took off his cloak which left him wearing only his underdress and moved over closer to haldir. The Elf still tried to pull back because he feare Gríma would proceed to do the same as the Wraiths. But he was calmed when Gríma wrapped the cloak around Haldir's shoulders, to warm the Elf and give him sheltering clothes. "You are the most wonderful creature I have ever seen!", Gríma said. His eyes studied every inch of the Elf's face. "I could not have let them take you with them without even trying to prevent you!" Haldir did not understand. "What is your name?", he asked, when he had finally manage to calm down and form a sentence. "Gríma!", Gríma said. "From Isengard!" Haldir nodded. "I am Haldir of Lórien!", he said. Gríma smiled. He carefully moved closer until he touched the Elf with his legs. Then Gríma opened his arms for an embrace. Haldir hesitated but then let go and fell into Gríma's arms. They hugged each other, Gríma holding Haldir, for hours, as it seemed. "We will get out of here!", Gríma whispered into Haldir's face. "I promise you that!" Haldir nodded and leaned back into Gríma's arms. They held each other and did not let loose. Tears ran down their cheeks. They were saved.