To Rescue An Elf 9

To Rescue An Elf

Part 9

Posted: January 11, 2008
Title: To Rescue an Elf
Author: Inwë Sáralondë

Summary: Lothvaen wakes up and begins to realise his predicament.

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Lothvaen awoke, feeling a little queer. No, it was more than that – he was feeling downright sick. He groaned.

“Yer wakin’ ups, are yer? ‘Bout time,” a gruff voice said.

“Feel sick,” Lothvaen whimpered.

“Yer goin’ ter feels that ways for a times yet.”

“Water…”

“No water; yer only goin’ ter chucks it up agin.” The voice was decidedly unsympathetic, and Lothvaen was beginning to feel worse by the second. It did not help that he had been slung over a horse, his head hanging down over the side. The scribe could feel his stomach heaving.

“Oi – don’ thinks about spewin’ up ‘ere over the sides of me ‘orse!”

“Then we’ll have to stop and give him a chance to recover.” A second voice reached Lothvaen’s ears; the voice of the man who had appeared so friendly towards him in the stables.

“Pity we couldna ‘ave takens ‘is ‘orse an’ ‘ad ‘im sittin’ on that,” the first voice grumbled. “Could ‘ave then solds it for a good price – a bits extra, yer know?”

“Except that elven horses tend to be difficult,” the second voice said. “No more talk. I’ll help him off and prop him up against that tree.”

“Yer thinks we’re far enoughs ahead of ‘is friends?”

“I doubt very much if his friends will be following us. More likely they will be returning to where they came from to organise a bigger party and then try and find us. Except by the time they do that we’ll be so far ahead of them they’ll have no chance.”

“Haldir…” Lothvaen moaned.

“Huh. Wonder ‘oo this ‘aldeer is,” the first voice said.

“Who knows,” came the second voice.

Lothvaen felt hands on him, half-dragging, half-carrying him off the back of the horse. He did not dare open his eyes; even through his eyelids the sun felt unbearably harsh. He had no idea where he was, and what these men were doing with him. The scribe soon found himself sitting up against a tree, but nearly toppled over as soon as the hands left him, so weak was he.

Hands quickly grabbed him and settled him upright again. “Come on, up you get.” The man’s voice was gentle. “We can’t have anything happen to you. Here, have some water. Unlike what our friend thinks, it will help, but sip slowly. The queasiness will soon pass.”

Lothvaen felt the water skin being held to his lips, and tried to tilt his head back to drink, spluttering slightly as the first drops hit his mouth.

“Easy. Remember, sip slowly.”

Trying to do what was being asked of him, Lothvaen finally managed to swallow some water, but then pushed the skin away.

“Pity we can’ breaks ‘im in, like. Wouldn’ minds puttin’ me cock up ‘is arse. Always wanted ter fuck an elf.” It took a moment before the first man’s words began to penetrate Lothvaen’s head but, when they did, he began to realise that he may be in serious trouble.

“You are *not* to touch him, is that understood? He needs to be free of any sort of injury; otherwise we’ll get nothing for him at the slave market!”

Lothvaen’s fear gave way to terror. His eyes flew open and took in the two men, one of whom was leering at him, while the other – the fair-haired man who had spoken to him in the stables – was looking at him a little concerned. “Wh..wh…why?” the scribe stuttered.

The fair-haired man smiled. “You are extremely beautiful, and there are those at the market who would…appreciate beauty such as yours.” He raised his hand and touched Lothvaen on the cheek, and the elf flinched. “Ah, no need for that now,” Eohric gently admonished. “But some advice,” he continued, leaning closer to Lothvaen, “don’t fight. Whoever buys you will give you a life of luxury, and you will be exclusive to them. In return, they will want obedience at all times. You start causing trouble, and you will be punished. And believe me when I say that the punishment can be at times…inventive, guaranteed to break you. However, if for some reason you are not broken and you continue to cause problems, then you’ll find yourself out on the street, available to anyone who is willing to pay a little coin to fuck you. And with your beauty, there will be plenty who will want to do that. As you can see, our friend here,” Eohric indicated Selred, “is extremely keen to fuck you.”

Lothvaen stared at the other man, who rubbed his cock suggestively. The scribe looked away, feeling sicker than he was before.

“However, as you may have heard, I have warned our friend here to keep his hands to himself, tempting though you may be. But you are extremely valuable to us; very few elves manage to get themselves caught.” Eohric pulled back slightly, a smile on his face. “Yes, I do believe you will bring us a tidy little fortune.”

*****

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