To Rescue An Elf 25

To Rescue An Elf

Part 25

Posted: March 7, 2008
Title: To Rescue an Elf
Author: Inwë Sáralondë

Summary: Lothvaen is finally found.

*****

Boromir could not contain his annoyance at being interrupted. “What is it!” he barked.

“Someone to see you, Captain,” one of the guards announced. “Says he has some information.”

Boromir groaned. “About *what*?” he asked peevishly.

“Says that there’s an elf in one of the waterside taverns,” the guard replied.

“And since *when* is that of any news,” Boromir said a little tiredly.

“According to the man, there’s someone at the tavern saying that the elf is his whore and is trying to…er…solicit customers for the elf.”

Boromir raised his head and gave the guard his full attention. “You think the elf is being held there against his will?” he asked quietly.

The guard shrugged slightly. “That’s what the man here seems to think. Let’s face it, Captain, no elf would willingly do something like that, now would they?”

“No…they would not,” Boromir said slowly. “What’s the man’s name?”

“Alric, Captain.”

Tell Alric I’ll be with him directly. I want him to take us to this tavern. Round up another three as well as yourself to come with us,” Boromir said.

“Right, Captain.”

Shortly afterwards, Boromir and his men were following Alric down to the waterside when the Captain halted. Before him was a group of seven cloaked riders before him. His gaze narrowed slightly as he took in the horses. “Hold up, men,” he ordered. “Looks like we have some more elves here.” Striding towards the group, Boromir stopped as the elves turned around. “Greetings, friends,” he said cordially. “‘Tis rare to see elves here these days.”

“You seem certain we are elves,” one of them said, his voice slightly amused.

Boromir smiled. “Your horses give you away, my friends. Not to mention the quality of your cloaks. They’re not the sort you’d find here.”

The elf gave a small chuckle. “So much for trying to remain unobtrusive,” Glorfindel said dryly as he revealed himself. The other elves followed suit and looked at the man before them.

“I am Boromir, Captain of the Guard here,” Boromir said. “What brings you to Osgiliath?”

“We seek a fellow elf, who we believe has been brought here,” Haldir said.

Boromir’s face became serious. “This man says,” indicating Alric, “that he thinks there is an elf being held against his will in one of the waterside taverns. He followed another man and the elf there, and has heard that the man was looking for ‘customers’, implying the elf was a whore.”

The faces on all the elves blanched. “Then we will join you,” Haldir said, his voice tight with emotion. “The elf we seek is my soul-mate, kidnapped from a human settlement nigh on five weeks’ ago.”

Boromir gazed steadily at the elves before him. “Five weeks is a long time, my friend,” he said quietly.

“We know,” Glorfindel said, his voice equally quiet. “We had hoped to catch up with them long before this, but they proved to be elusive, despite our best efforts.”

The Captain nodded. “Unfortunately those such as the man who kidnapped your elf have hidden paths and hiding places that they use to their fullest advantage. Very few who are taken are ever found before they reach the southern lands and the slave markets there. You have been more than fortunate, my friends.”

“Do you know how long they have been here?” Elladan asked.

Alric spoke up. “They only arrived in the last hour or so, my lords.”

“Then let us find them,” Haldir said.

Boromir made a quick decision. “Leave your horses here. I will get one of my men to look after them, for we will be quicker on foot.”

After quickly looking at his companions, Haldir dismounted, and soon all the elves had joined Boromir and had quickly introduced themselves. Boromir then turned to Alric. “Lead on,” he said curtly.

“One can only express disgust that such a thing happens,” Boromir said as they followed Alric. “I only hope that nothing has happened to your elf.”

“Lothvaen. His name is Lothvaen,” Haldir said. Boromir nodded.

“This is the tavern,” Alric said, and they all stopped.

“Are you able point the man out to us?” Boromir asked.

Alric nodded. “I’d recognise him from his voice alone. He has a very rough speech.”

“Good.” Boromir pushed open the door carefully. “Can you see him?” he said to Alric.

“Over there,” Alric said, pointing to the corner where Selred was talking to another man.

Boromir opened the door open wider and stepped in, followed by his men and the elves. The room quieted immediately, and Selred looked up, only for his face to pale as he saw Boromir approaching him.

Meanwhile Haldir approached the barman. “Do you know the room this…man is in?” Haldir asked angrily, indicating Selred.

Terrified, the man dropped the mug he had been cleaning. “A…aye,” he stuttered. “Up the stairs, second-last room on the right.”

“Go and find Lothvaen,” Rúmil said to his brother. “We will deal with that…creature.”

Haldir nodded and went up the stairs, all but running down to the room where he hoped Lothvaen would be in.

The sight that greeted Haldir as he opened the door was something that he was sure would remain with him for the rest of his life. Lothvaen lay on his back, spread-eagled on the bed, his hands and feet tied to the four posts. Drying semen could be seen on Lothvaen’s thighs and stomach, evidence of what had only just happened to the scribe.

But it was the dull and listless gaze that cut through Haldir more quickly and efficiently than a sharpened sword, and the Marchwarden gasped, almost in pain.

Lothvaen gazed at Haldir. He thought what happened before was his final humiliation, but it was not. This was: his lover to find him like this, sullied and tainted, past the point of redemption. “Leave me here,” he said dully as Haldir walked towards him. “I am no longer worthy of you.”

“No!” Anger tinged Haldir’s voice. “You are more than worthy of me, pen-velui.”

“Do not call me that!” Lothvaen’s voice was harsh from unshed tears. “I am no longer your lovely one, Haldir. How could you possibly think better of me, now that you see me like this?”

“You are my *heart*, Lothvaen,” Haldir said as he took his knife and almost savagely cut through the bonds that tied the scribe to the bed. He made to gather Lothvaen in his arms, only for the elf to curl up in a ball and shrink away from him.

“Do not touch me,” Lothvaen whispered, his voice breaking. “Leave me here; forget that you ever found me.”

“I can not,” Haldir said gently, carefully reaching out with his hand and touching Lothvaen’s hair, his heart nearly breaking as his little scribe flinched at the touch. “I will take you back to Lothlórien, and I will heal you.”

“I can no longer be healed.” Lothvaen turned his head. “You do not understand,” he continued, staring at Haldir. “I am no longer the elf you knew. Nor am I a scribe.” Lothvaen smiled mirthlessly. “I have become what the man wanted me to be, Haldir – a whore. The only thing I am good for now is spreading my legs and getting fucked by anyone who wants me.”

*****

Elvish translations:

pen-velui – lovely one

The name Alric was taken from this website: http://www.ealdriht.org/names/Englishnames.htm

*****

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