Title: Blood and Torture – part 2 (May/June 2004) Author: Wagner Pairings: Ringwraiths/Haldir ; Ringwraiths/Gríma Rating: Nc-17 Summary: Gríma and Haldir are still captured in Mordor. As fortune treats them good this time, in that sequel they will come free. But before, there are still some lustful Ringwraiths that are very fond of Haldir... Warnings: BDSM, torture, rape, graphic violence, graphic sex Feedback: Like in part 1, I am begging you!!! dracula_1889@hotmail.com Author’s Note: The original text has been my very first slash story. Thank you to all those who delighted me with their enormous feedback! ^^ Wagner will keep on writing for his fans! They were saved. Deep in their hearts they knew they were... =^..^= Gríma and Haldir were still in a deep embrace when the door to their cell flung open again. Haldir was still dressed in Gríma’s cloak for the Ringwraiths had taken all his clothes from him, and Gríma was only in his underdress, as he had given Haldir his cloak to let the Elf not freeze. Three Ringwraiths were standing in the door frame, looking down onto the huddled figures on the floor. “Oh, how cute!”, one of them hissed with disgusted sarcasm. The sounds of their breaths made Haldir and Gríma shiver. Both looked up to face three shadows. “We want the Elf again!”, another one whispered voicelessly. “He is not finished with yet!” Haldir tensed and clutched Gríma’s arm. He did not want to. He did not want to go with the Wraiths one more time! Gríma could feel the fear of his Elf friend and moved a consoling hand down his back. “Leave him in peace!”, he called out to the Nazgûl. “Did you not have enough fun with that poor creature already?” A cold chuckle came forth. “Oh, you will never learn not to stand between the Nazgûl and his prey!”, a wraithy voice followed. “Get him over, and we will spare you to experience the same he has already had!” Gríma gave an angry sound from his throat, and Haldir’s fingers clutched his flesh as tight as to hurt. A panicking whisper came from his open mouth when he saw the Wraiths approach. “Come here, you scum!”, one of the Ringwraiths spat and bent down to get Haldir. “No!”, the Elf weakly protested. But when the Wraith had touched the skin of his arm, Haldir loosened the grip on Gríma’s arm immediately. Too weak to get up himself, Haldir let himself be dragged to his feet by the Ringwraith. Gríma watched all four of them leaving the cell, and a loud bang of the door made him know he was alone again. But that was not the worst. Haldir would have a much worse situation now. Gríma made a fist by the remembrance of Haldir’s screams the last time they had taken him into their torture chamber. If he could only save the Elf from all this... They dragged Haldir across the floor and pushed him forward into the room he already knew just too well. Haldir fell onto his face when they gave him a push from the back, and he did not even move or tried to get up. The Wraiths encircled him, and Haldir could see their iron boots around him. They were more than three this time. They were at least four, if not even five or six. Haldir moaned. He had no strength in his body left. He was tired. A cold iron glove at the back of his throat made the Elf screech out in silent fear. A Ringwraith was pulling him upwards, and the clothes of Gríma moved down to the ground. Haldir froze when his shoulders were bared. But he was too frightened to notice. Not able to stand without help, Haldir was held by his back of the neck, naked and shivering bitterly. “Look at this!”, he heard a whisper. “This is the Elf we captured yesterday! My Lord, would you like to try him?” A wraith walked near Haldir, and the blackness of its hood stared into Haldir’s face. The Elf rolled his eyes and lolled his head. He wanted to sink down to the ground again. An iron grip to his chin made him raise his head weakly. He hardly reacted to anything but realised the Wraith that held him was intending to kiss him. Haldir voluntarily opened his mouth to let the Wraith in. Haldir did not resist in any way and let the Wraith curl its tongue around his own, let its tongue suck in his saliva and lick over his teeth. After a while the Wraith released him in slight disappointment. “Does he like what we are doing?”, it asked one of its friends. The other Wraith said nothing but moved, as Haldir could hear it. Soon he felt yet another iron glove at his neck. “Do you like that?”, a harsh wraith voice asked. Haldir shook his head. “No!”, he whined. The Wraith let its other glove wander down its waist to the belt. It fingered the whip that was between the belt and the Wraith’s body but did not take it out. Instead, it bore its fingers deeper into Haldir’s flesh. “Then why don’t you resist us?”, it asked. “Do you want us to do more than that?” “No!”, Haldir tried to shriek. “Please don’t! please don’t touch me! I... I do not want that!” A noise like a pleased chuckle came from out of the hood. Slowly the Wraith took the whip and raised it a few inches. “But if you dislike our treatment – then this is just what we are going to do to you!”, it said in its voiceless pitch, and the whip came down on Haldir’s skin. The Elf whimpered but was too weak to scream, even when the whip cuts crossed. Haldir huddled together and tried to hide his head with his arms. Marks were visible over all his shoulders, arms and the side. Blood ran down the already damaged body until it built a lake around the crouched figure of the shivering Haldir. He was so near swooning that he hardly reacted to the beatings anymore. Suddenly he felt the whip cracks stop. Haldir did not move but he listened carefully. The Wraiths were talking to each other very silently, but they said something about leaving as the victim had had enough for the minute. Haldir dared not to breath too loudly. And then they shrieked. Haldir cried out when he heard the terrible shrill shrieks and tried to press his hands, that were not strong enough, against his pointed ears to protect them from the piercing screams of the Wraiths. They left the room. The shrieks faded behind the closing cell door. He still lay without a motion even when the door has slammed shut behind the Black Riders. Only Haldir’s breath increased in pace and volume because he thought himself to be more secure now that they were gone. This feeling was what made him disregard that one Wraith had not left with the others but remained inside the dungeon. “Lovely little Elf!” Haldir jerked up terrified when he heard the voice and realised he was not alone. The Ringwraith approached with silent movements and kneeled down next to the wounded body. Haldir crouched to a ball and began to become nervous. Something made him know that this was exactly the one Wraith that had been with him the day before. The one that had been talking so friendly but hurt him just as much as the others, only sweeter... “Ah, do not be afraid! Have you forgotten tat you were mine before? And have I been rough with you? Crueller than they were?” Haldir’s breath was almost louder than the Ringwraith’s voice. He shook his head quickly and avoided to move again. But the Wraith was already pleased. “So you see I am a nice Wraith!”, it went on. “Am I not? I only want a submissive little slave, and I am good to him as long as he is! Never forget this, my dear Elf! Because I am hungry after you again...” Haldir crouched ever tighter. He knew what was going to happen but he did not want to, wanted everything but that! And the iron touch on his side made him know he had the worst chances in getting his will than he ever had before. As soft as iron could be, the glove moved over Haldir’s skin where blood welts coloured his usual silken skin red. It hurt when the cold glove touched the fresh wounds but Haldir knew better than to complain. The glove moved under his arm pit and made its way to his chest. In circle movements the Wraith stroked Haldir’s chest, and it took his nipples between its fingers, squeezing lightly and making them stand up from the Elf’s chest. His nipples were hard after the Ringwraith’s squeeze. The Wraith liked that and bent forward to roll Haldir over onto his back. The Elf obeyed wordlessly and without resistance. Haldir thought it could be over much sooner and maybe even less painful when he did not do anything than to let the Ringwraith work on his body. And so he lay on his back when the Ringwraith took him between his legs and bent down to let its tongue wander across Haldir’s chest. The deadly cold saliva made Haldir feel cold though he was already freezing which was proved by his shivering body. And the Wraith took a nipple into its mouth, sucking hard and teasing it with the tip of its tongue. Haldir closed his eyes. The bruises on his face were still black, and he was scared his face would have to have contact with the stone floor one more time. He feared hid bones could break, or his skin could tear off completely. This imagination made him cry again. Silent salty tears escaped his closed eyelids and ran slowly down the bruises on his cheeks. When the Ringwraith saw them, it stopped bathing the nipples with delight. “Ah, why are you crying?”, it asked as if it really cared. “Let me take the tears from you!” And the it licked over the trail the tears had left. Haldir shivered and moaned in terror when he felt the tongue on his face, licking away the tears and leaving another liquid where there had been his own before. It was obvious the Wraith would push its tongue into his mouth in less than a minute. And he was oh-so right. Quicker than the Elf had thought, a wraithy tongue filled his mouth and stuffled his cries. New tears came out of Haldir’s eyes when the Wraith’s tongue was desecrating his mouth one more time. And then it let go off him, and the deepest black of its hood stared at Haldir’s face. “I can’t wait a minute longer!”, it whispered slightly out of breath. “I must take you now, in that minute still! I must have you now!” Haldir’s eyes opened widely in horror. No, everything but *that*! Haldir struggled as the Black Rider turned him over so that he was on his back. “No!”, Haldir cried. “Not again! I am begging you, please no!” The Wraith was annoyed. “What is the matter with you?”, it asked warningly. “Do you want me to call my friends for help or will you stop that now?” Haldir choked on a sob when the danger of the Ringwraith’s words came to his mind. “No, not them!”, he said in panic. “I won’t struggle anymore, I swear, I won’t do it again!” But the Ringwraith was already too busy in undressing as to listen. It opened the belt around its waist pulled up the enormous amount of black layers of clothes. The goose pimples on Haldir’s bottom looked too seductive to it to waste too much time. It wanted to take the Elf now. It wanted to be inside him immediately and without any second’s wait. When its clothes were pulled up high enough, it pushed its sinew member into the Elf’s opening without hesitation. Haldir screamed when the cold prick inserted him. It hurt to get in, and it stretched his entrance alarmingly far. The sinews were also stretched but that was what made the Wraith get its member inside. Haldir wished it to stop getting deeper with every further inch it went. When it finally was inside with all its length, Haldir let go a sob that could pull at the heartstrings of every living creature. Just that the Wraith was no living creature and could not be weakened by that tiny noise. It even encouraged it... And the Wraith thrust with disgusting noises of lust and work. Haldir cried loudly and sobbed all the time. Sometimes he chokes when he breathed and sobbed the same time. But the Wraith kept on thrusting. Its hands clutched Haldir’s buttocks and pressed them down, and the young Elf felt his entrance must be torn completely. But his face, it was again hitting the floor with every thrust that came. The bruises touched the stony ground again and again, and Haldir did not know what hurt him more – his bruises or the Wraith inside his body. Even his stomach hurt from the crying. And it was so disgusting when the Ringwraith had its climax! A liquid from out of a dead body shot into Haldir’s anus. The Elf wanted to crouch when this liquid filled him and shot deep inside, because it felt so indescribable how the liquid was inside him. And when the Wraith pulled out violently, Haldir was finally able to huddle together. Everything hurt, his whole body. Haldir stared with open eyes against the wall at his opposite, his body shivering and moving up and down from his heavy breaths. This torture was more terrible than anything, he thought. =^..^= Gríma also lay on his back, but he had his arms under his head and whistled a little melody that had come to his mind an hour ago. Since he had been captured, he had not left his cell, and never had anyone been there to get him out. It was not that bad after all, he thought. But his thoughts were with Haldir all the time. And this was mental torture for him. Suddenly the cell door flung open. It was not Haldir that was thrown inside but two Wraiths that stood in front of him. Gríma jerked up and crouched against the wall. “The Elf’s saviour!”, one of them – and Gríma did not know which – mocked. They both moved their hoods which meant something to them but nothing to Gríma. “Do you feel well in our company?” Gríma raised his will power and glared evilly at them. “I told you to let him go!”, he ordered. “This is what keeps annoying me! What do you see in that Elf?” “Probably the same you see?”, one of the Black Riders hissed. Gríma tried to remain defiant though his fears increased rapidly when the Wraiths intended to enter the room. “We wanted to visit you, man!”, they whispered. “Because we thought the same: Why only the Elf? He is the favourite toy of one of our Wraith friends, so we want to have fun with what is left for us! We want a little slave, too!” Gríma’s eyes widened in terror. “No!”, he gasped. It was seriously going to happen to him now! The Wraiths bent down to get him but Gríma was still defiant. He struggled with much resistance and tried everything to kick or push them away. He was angering the Ringwraiths... Soon of them was so angry that it exhaled its lethal black breath. Gríma flinched in panic and held his breath not to inhale it. But a Wraith’s breath was dangerous. It entered Gríma’s nose even though he resisted, and the man began to feel dizzy with everything turning around him. It was a weak “No!” that escaped his mouth. Then an iron chain was around his wrists and a piece of black cloth inside his mouth. He was talking too much for them so they had to gag him. They would not want to have his complaints even during a rape so they were actually forced to do it. Gríma gulped softly when the cloth muffled the last attempt to say no. And under almost hysterical whimpers, he felt how a cold iron glove moved over his chest, nearly stroking his body and his underdress. Sounds like no’s and whimpers were audible from the gag but it was not enough to disturb the Wraiths. They were already ripping off what was still left from Gríma’s clothes. They tore it down his chest and exposed extremely creamy white flesh. Gríma’s skin was so incredibly light – but never had anyone cared for that secret beauty around a neither pretty nor ugly human body. A glove cut into his chest and Gríma rolled his eyes. Wounds did not heal easily on his skin, and he was sure even Saruman’s marks were still on him. Gríma hated Saruman right in that moment, for pain, ignorance, for every breath the Wizard had ever taken. The coldness of the Wraith’s gloves made him flinch and freeze. Not this time, not this ... There the door smashed open again. Horrifying shrieks followed within a second, and Gríma wanted to cover his ears when he realised his hands were actually bound. There were more shrieks, always more shrieks. Even the Wraiths that had just started to strip him off were shrieking now. They were in panic. They were really, really nervous. And a harsh grip on his chin made Gríma scream into his gag again. A Wraith lifted his head to its hood, and the blackness on there was worse than a staring look of living eyes. “Are you the servant of Saruman the White?”, the Ringwraith hissed with a high and angry voice. Gríma nodded hastily. “I am, I am!”, he screeched into his gag. Yet another shriek, even more terrible than those before, came out of the hood of the Wraith and it let Gríma fall back onto the floor. The Wraiths had a conversation in their own language for what seemed an eternity. When it stopped, an iron boot kicked angrily into Gríma’s side. The man gasped and huddled together. That was painful! Though the explanation was easy: The Ringwraiths were in deep trouble with their master Sauron. “He is to be freed!”, a Ringwraith whispered. “The Eye is outraged due to this mistake!”, another one whispered. “The White Wizard claims his slave back...” “He wants him untouched...” “Lord Sauron will kill us all...” “We are in a trouble...” Though Gríma was still suffering from the kick, he was rapturous from joy within his mind. They were having trouble now! Because of him! Yet then Gríma realised that they would take out their anger on the cause of it. While shrieking out their fear and anger, the Wraiths were crashing down their gloves onto Gríma’s defenceless figure. He raised his bound wrists to shield himself but beatings were over all his body. When Gríma was too weak even to moan, they slowly stopped maltreating him. “It is enough!”, a Wraith breathed out. “That can cause us even more problems!” With slumped shoulders and defeated sighs, the Ringwraiths left the cell and stepped into the hallway. =^..^= “Wake up, scum!” The hiss was hardly audible but it was meant more than hateful. Gríma slowly opened his eyes and was awake immediately when he saw a Ringwraith only an inch away from his face. Then he felt dizzy from the quick movement. He wanted to touch his forehead but was still bound. The Ringwraith was fine with his waking up and rose to its feet. “Take him out!”, it whispered to not visible other Ringwraiths behind the door. Gríma was dragged to his feet, and a pleased smile covered his wounded face. They were to let him go! “Careful!”, he heard a Wraith whisper. “And get that Elf out as well before we will be in trouble for him, too!” The Ringwraiths moved swiftly across the hallway, and while three disappeared in a cross way, three others took Gríma along many different floors. They dragged him to a huge iron door that opened when they approached – and threw him outside onto the muddy stone ground. Gríma grunted his teeth because it hurt at his body to touch the ground so harshly. But before he was able to crawl forward, another creature was thrown beside him. Haldir of Lórien. Gríma moved his head to see the almost unconscious Elf at his side but for raising he was not strong enough, too. A weak hand placed itself onto Haldir’s head, the silver strands of hair, until the Elf opened his eyes. Haldir was confused and looked at Gríma without a motion. In his eyes there was only one question: Why? But Gríma smiled, smiled a huge smile of happiness and relief. “Haldir!”, he sighed. “We are...outside...we are...free!” Haldir tried to look around where he was, and in the corners of his eyes he saw mud and breathed the fresh air of outside. He wanted to see the sky but he could not turn his head that much, and a tiny smile even covered his white lips. He had realised Gríma has said the truth. “Haldir!”, the man whispered again, not more than a breath. “Haldir!” And he took a strand of hair between his fingers, feeling the hair he had loved to see in the dungeon and he had always wanted to protect from the Ringwraiths. =^..^= “We are very thankful to you!” Rúmil and Orophin stood at the borders of the Northern Fences, a stern impression, but both meaning what they had said. Haldir stood in the shelter of the trees. He had a cloak thrown around his shoulders, covering the clothes he had already taken from Gríma. The man himself still wore nothing but his underdress. They all looked worried, tired but also happy. “It was my duty!”, Gríma replied to the Elven brothers’ words. Orophin nodded. He looked over at Haldir, his beloved brother, who would have died without the help of the man. Suddenly he felt a tear creeping out of his eye. At once, Orophin pressed his hands against his eyes to stop the liquid coming out. He would not cry in front of a mortal, would he? “Rúmil, let them alone for a minute!”, he said from under his hands. The youngest brother silently nodded, and both vanished into the forest. Who remained were Haldir and Gríma. They moved closer, and Haldir looked with regained pride into the face of his friend. “I will miss you!”, he said. “But I will never forget you!” Gríma smiled. “Nor will I!”, he answered. They exchanged a smile and a glance when their faces came dangerously near. “But...”, Haldir suddenly called out, “you can always visit me! The guardians will not touch you as long as I am the march warden, and you are always welcome. I would be happy indeed...” Gríma replied nothing. He lowered his head and thought of Isengard, the place he should have gone already. “Will you not go home?”, Haldir asked as if he had read the man’s mind. Gríma looked up. “No!”, he said. “It is not my home. When I go back to Saruman, he will kill me. When I am somewhere else, he will think I am still in the dungeon and hopefully ruin himself by accusing Lord Sauron. But I will never go there again.” Haldir nodded slightly. His face approached Gríma’s again and they pulled both back, but when they came forward again, they caught each other in a kiss. With a soft whimper, both let the other invade his mouth, kissing sweetly and silently under the trees of Lothlórien. When they let go, both looked at the other. “Thank you, Gríma!”, Haldir said and stepped back a little. “Do never forget you have the love of an Elf!” And he turned to disappear into the woods, never to see him again who has saved him from death, he who was willing to be tortured only the rescue the soul of an Elf.