He was running along the riverbank, full speed still, long legs pumping fast, trees disappearing
from his sight in a blur. Gasping now through open mouth as lungs screamed for more air.
Something's tracking me, his mind chanted.
A dark presence on the other riverbank, a vague shape just far enough behind as to remain
anonymous. Though he couldn't spare a moment to look back, he was sure it easily kept pace.
He was certain, too, that there was a second presence behind him. He could hear them both.
Was it his swift pace that prevented his capture? He thought that at first, but now wondered
if the second presence was merely tracking him as well.
Soon, it wouldn't matter. His endurance was strained almost beyond its limits. He would be
caught. A disgrace that I won't survive.
Just before sunrise this morning, half of a very long tour of duty nearly over, he had descended
from his talan, thinking only to get a drink from the stream nearby. Too tired after his final
round last night for a full meal, he simply dragged his exhausted body up to the talan and lay down. Laughed at himself then: too tired to eat; too hungry to sleep. Fatigue won out and he dropped into a dreamless sleep, until just before dawn, when his outraged body refused to sleep any longer until it was fed. Sleepily swallowing a bite or two of lembas, he desired only a drink, then a few more minutes of blessed sleep.
It must have been the soft rushing of the small waterfall that camouflaged their approach.
His keen hearing should have noted their out-of-place sounds long before they appeared nearly
at his side. Waterfall, hunger, thirst, fatigue – whatever the reason for his lapse, it didn't
matter now.
Now he ran.
He had already made his first error: not having his bow with him. But I only wanted a drink,
I was going right back to the talan. And his second: crossing the stream immediately, cutting
himself off from his woods, his kin and his weapons.
His third mistake was becoming obvious now. The stream had widened to a river, not easily
crossed; I could do it if I just had a moment to scout out the best place in this unfamiliar
land. Trees had long since thinned to bushes and shrubs, eliminating any advantage he would
have in the forest, and even those were becoming sparse. Open land, coming into view on his
right, was supremely dangerous; the wild river blocked him on his left. I have to turn back, I have to turn back, a new chant now.
He no longer ran in the silent manner of his people, just ran to put distance between himself and his hunters. No matter how he moved, they clung to him like his shadow. Do they want to capture me or simply drive me from my own land?
Stopping for an instant, he strained to hear. There, that was the predator across the river, also stopping. Immediately, an animal sound from his right. Overtaxed, he couldn’t at first understand: how could the one tracking behind now be in front of me? Another rustle, this time from his left. Is it an echo? Are there now two on this side of the river?
Precious seconds passed while he considered his best route. He needed to reverse his trail, work his way back upstream toward his bow and kin and home. He said a quick prayer to the Valar for strength and endurance. Help me pass by him safely. Guide me home.
Taking an evasive route through and around the short bushes taxed his meager reserves; he felt faint with exhaustion. His blood pounded in his ears so that he couldn't hear his pursuers. They took care to remain out of sight. Nearly to the woods now. If he could make it there, he might elude his hunters long enough to get back across the river where it narrowed. With his bow in his hand, he feared no one and nothing. Rationality -- hope, too -- began to creep into his thoughts, no longer just sheer panic. "I will make it home." He said it aloud.
Calling on nearly non-existent energy, he lengthened his stride as he entered the glade. A sibilant hiss past his ears: Not an arrow. He hit the ground hard and fast. All hope fell away as panic returned ten-fold. Bound by a rope! No sooner had he realized that and reached to loosen it from his feet then a second lasso swished over his head and was pulled hard, binding his arms to his torso.
One horseman, no, two, entered the glade, laughing. The closer one was tying the ends of the two tethers to his mount. Adrenaline with no outlet ran as acid through his muscles. The need for air raced with his panic as the tight rope restricted his lungs. He lay on his side, without the leverage to sit up or even get to his knees. I must look as a fish freshly caught, flopping about on the bank.
"By the gods, they are fast." From the larger one, the one who had not roped him.
"I believe I said that as we started out. Another reason you should always bow to my superior knowledge," laughed the first.
Two here, and now the third is coming from across the river. I can hear him splashing. Armored as warriors, though I have never seen their kind before.
"Good sport, Eomer!" called the latest arrival. "Though I owe you two coins; I wouldn't have thought we could run him down!"
"Well said, Camred! I was just reminding Trewyn here that he shouldn't doubt my knowledge of this land and its creatures. He owes me... what, Trewyn? You thought he'd drop at mid-day? Three coins, then. Now! For I know you have them."
Good-natured grumbling amongst friends, then wagers were paid and the three horsemen dismounted to examine their quarry.
Please, Elbereth, do not abandon me. Keep me within thy protection. If it is my time to pass, let me come to the Undying Lands and greet my ancestors with pride, not as a sniveling coward who perished in fear. His insides trembled with terror at being bound, in an unknown territory, without weapons. He summoned his customary courage, smoothed his face, hid his distress.
The shadow of the trio fell over him, their large bodies blocking the sun. Blood ran like icy water through his veins at his disadvantage. Within the boundaries of Lorien's wood, intruders were met by a band of elves, never one alone. If combat was at a distance, then no one could best him with a bow, but no experience had he with hand-to-hand fighting. And never, ever had he been bound against his will. Actions ran through his mind and were rejected, one by one. It is plain that I know not what to do.
The one called Eomer pulled off his helmet, shaking his shaggy blond hair free. He crouched next to his captive. For a long moment, the two stared at each other, then Eomer jerked him up to his knees. "What are you called, cur? By what name are you known?"
"Haldir. Haldir of Lorien," a strong voice that did not reveal inside he trembled at the man's evident ill will. "And yours?"
"'Haldir, Haldir of Lorien'," Eomer mimicked, ignoring his query. "An elf, one of the chosen, aren't you? Ah, but I know who chooses you and whom you choose to serve."
Turning to the others, he spoke. "It is evident why Saruman uses them as spies. Look at his long legs." He ran his hand down the length of his captive's leg, then back up to his thigh. "Look at the strength found here. That's why they can run as swift and as long as our horses.”
Haldir stiffened in outrage. How dare he lay hands on me?
"And they are lean, unused to the weight of armor, not true and honest warriors." His hands had by then moved to Haldir's chest, loosening the ties of the tunic and baring the torso as much as possible around the constriction of the rope he himself had placed there. "That enables them to slip between trees and across the river rocks, barely getting wet, as they do Saruman's bidding."
"And he is as pretty as your sister, Trewyn!" smirked Camred, now kneeling behind the elf and stroking his blond hair.
"I will tell her you said so, Camred, and she will have yet another reason to avoid your glances at the feast," retorted Trewyn. Camred rose at the insult and the two had at each other, chest armor clashing in the quiet of the glade, shoving and pushing; each calling into question the other's heritage, horsemanship, and handiness with a sword.
Eomer kept his attention on the one bound by his rope. "They are also cunning," he said, almost to himself, "which is why Saruman sends some out to spy and keeps others to breed to orcs, thus he creates those both sly and strong, with a will to destroy us. Firstborn, indeed. But I have you now, my little spy, and you will tell us why you were hiding in the woods. Why does Saruman bid you watch us?"
Haldir spoke in anger. "I am a march warden of Lorien and guard only what is ours; I spy for no one."
"What a false tongue in your head. Of course you spy. But you now belong to me, not the dark forces any longer. Where I am taking you, there will be those who have ways to force a true answer from your lips." And with that, he struck out with a vicious backhand, knocking Haldir off his knees, drawing blood.
Camred and Trewyn had ceased their mock battle at the sound.
"Eomer, take care. We sought only a little sport, not a captive," Trewyn stated quietly.
Camred nodded his agreement. "Let us apologize to the elf here and share our meal with him, that we may continue our journey."
"No!" Eomer rose menacingly, his earlier good humor now just a memory. Although he was slightly shorter in stature than the other two, it was obvious he was their leader. "No, the captive is mine to do with as I wish. He is a spy, make no mistake about that, and I will learn his secrets."
A tense silence, the easy camaraderie amongst the men now gone. Camred and Trewyn began to gather wood for a small cooking fire, whilst Eomer brought forth provisions from the horses' packs. Soon, a kettle boiled, meat grilled and vegetables sizzled over hot coals.
Haldir struggled to his knees and composed his face, watching the trio warily. How to make sense of this? Never have I been struck, nor bound, nor called a captive. These warriors track me for sport, bind me for evil I did not commit, threaten me with harm. Do they not know how little we seek to interact with men, and rightfully so? We keep to our lands and they to theirs. They will bring the wrath of the Firstborn upon themselves.
Anger again shadowed Haldir's expression. "I am a Galadhrim, guardian for Lord Celeborn of Lorien. You have no cause to bind me. You insult Lorien for no gain of your own. Let me go. Be on your way and let me return to my woods."
The two larger men were startled by the elf's voice. They regarded Eomer with trepidation; he, in turn, however, glared at the elf. "No. Cast your eyes down, cur," he snarled. "You are not worthy to look upon Riders of the Mark, true defenders of Middle Earth."
Rohirrim, then! Haldir's eyes widened and he could not take his eyes from the warriors. People of the horse lord. But why do they disdain me so? Do we not all defend our lands against the forces of evil? Against Saruman? Haldir's thoughts whirled, casting about for any knowledge of Rohan. Elves by choice had little contact with other kingdoms and he could bring nothing to mind.
"Eomer, ease," Camred chuckled. "He's probably just mesmerized by your handsome face. Leave him be now."
"Camred is right, an unusual occurrence indeed!" Trewyn added. "The elf is bound, he's bloody, he's probably hungry and thirsty. We set off for a sport today, Eomer, and we've had our fun at this poor fellow's expense. We've done wrong, so let us set it right. What harm in feeding him, then setting him on his way back home. We don't want his demise on our heads."
"No," Eomer would not respond to their friendly entreaties. "Elves are immortal, something that makes them invaluable to the Dark Lord and loathsome to us. He will not die from any wounds nor from hunger. He waits there."
Haldir seethed under the afternoon sun whilst the men ate. Unable to loosen the ropes, he swayed and rocked with each move of Eomer's mount, to which he was still tethered. Finally, Trewyn brought a waterskin to Haldir, tilting his chin and allowing him a drink, regarding him rather kindly. Camred stayed Eomer as he sought to stop the comfort.
Voices low and harsh rose and fell in argument. Camred gestured toward Haldir several times; Trewyn set a moderating hand on Eomer's shoulder. However, it was evident that he would not be moved by their protests.
Throwing off Trewyn's arm, Eomer untied the ropes from his horse's saddle and strode toward Haldir. Camred and Trewyn watched Eomer with unease.
Haldir strove to hide his fear. This whole day was unreal to him, as though he was still sleeping in the talan, dreaming he was in a story told as a warning to all young elves by their nanas. Surely he would awake and laugh at himself for dreaming he was a spy pursued by men in armor.
But alas, too real, this.
Eomer glared at him, with hatred contorting his face. "Mine, to do with as I please. You live or die at my pleasure." With one smooth move, he jerked the rope around Haldir's chest up to his neck and pulled tight. Haldir's hands flew to his throat, scrabbling to loosen the noose, black dots floating in front of his eyes. A blow to his midsection drove the last of his breath from his body. The ground rose up to meet him and his world went dark.
Cold water splashing on his face rallied Haldir, unwillingly, to consciousness. Trewyn was holding Eomer's arm, talking loudly to him, while Camred peered anxiously at Haldir, waterskin at the ready. A dream, this must be a dream.
"Strip him of his bracers and bury them, so his fellow-spies will not find them, and stow his boots in my pack." ordered Eomer, shaking off Trewyn's hand. "Hold his leg that I may chain him. He longs to run to tell Saruman of our position."
Camred and Trewyn exchanged glances. "He is in no shape to flee, Eomer," Trewyn pointed out. "No need to treat him thus. And he is no spy, just a border guard as he claimed. Let him return to his people; what you are considering is folly. Let us put an end to this sport and start for camp now. As it is, we have two days' ride."
Eomer ignored him.
"I will not take part in this, Eomer," Trewyn said in a low voice. "These actions are not worthy of you. Think about what drives you. Stop it now and save yourself the misfortune this will bring."
"Hold him," Eomer growled. From his pack, he withdrew iron manacles.
Haldir's blood ran cold. He does not mean to use those on me. Not iron chains. For the first time, he struggled, taking Camred by surprise. Though his feet were still bound by the tether, he kicked and twisted his body in a frenzied attempt to escape, pulling at the noose around his neck. No, not chained. Not a prisoner. Not taken to a foreign kingdom. Let me go, I must get free!
With the reflexes of a warrior, Camred reacted immediately, throwing himself on Haldir, counting on his heavier body weight to pin the elf. Eomer let out a short bark of laughter. "When will you ever remember that I know his type? If I tell you the filthy elf will do something, as sure as the sun rises tomorrow, he will do it. Now, hold him still."
With Camred's weight across his upper body and Eomer sitting on his legs, Haldir's struggles gained him no advantage, Trewyn turned away as Eomer roughly pulled his wrists close and clamped each in an iron bracelet, connected by a short chain. Pulling off Haldir's soft suede boots, Eomer then attached two manacles, joined by a slightly longer chain, to his left ankle. As a final deterrent to flight, a leather leash formed by an extra horse's lead, replaced the rope noose.
"Eomer, once again, please think of what you do. Free the elf, that we may do what we are meant to do: defend our land unencumbered. It's not too late," Trewyn's voice was deferential but firm. "We take on trouble we do not need. It is wrong to do this. You are better than this."
Eomer merely glared at his companions until they sought the safety of their saddles. He dragged Haldir by the arm towards his huge horse. Haldir, in a wild burst of hopefulness, planted his bare feet and, foregoing all elven pride, pleaded, "Please, I am no spy. All in Lorien seek to defend their borders against the dark forces, just as you do for your own land. I wish no harm to you. Please, please let me return to my people and we will ally together against Saruman."
He never saw the blow coming.
The rocking of the horse roused him from his stupor. Disorientated, Haldir panicked immediately, thrashing to escape to no avail. The leather rope about his neck was looped between his chained hands, then tied to the pommel of the saddle, and he was held closely by Eomer's powerful arm.
"Cease struggling, slave," Eomer whispered in his ear, "lest I strike you again, but harder this time. You live or die at my pleasure."
Tremors ran through Haldir's body as he strove to subdue his body's natural reflexes. His efforts did not go unnoticed. Eomer chuckled cruelly as he pulled Haldir tighter to himself and whispered threats and insults as they rode away from Lorien.
As the sun touched the tops of the hills and dark clouds gathered, Camred raised a hand and motioned. "Here is a good place for camp. A branch of the river runs near and there are caves for protection from the rain."
Eomer jerked Haldir off the horse and left him, arms stretched, hands still tethered to the pommel, whilst the three warriors set up a fire and scouted the small overhang of rocks. "They might keep us dry yet," Trewyn said wearily. "Let us eat and wash before the thunder starts."
The meal was quick. Afterward, each man in turn helped the others lift off heavy chest armor. Helmets were tossed aside and heavy boots, padded war pants and gauntlets removed. Haldir gazed through bleary eyes at the land before and behind them, plotting an escape route, though he felt it to be hopeless. Even the stars were hidden from him, as though ashamed to shine upon an elf taken by men.
Eomer, using the leather noose as a leash, pulled Haldir toward the river. Off-balance because of the heavy manacle and with bare feet sensitive to the sharp rocks and rough ground, Haldir stumbled once and bumped up against Eomer. "Not so fleet on your feet now, elf," he sneered.
Camred and Trewyn were already in the cold water, enjoying a respite from the long, dusty ride. What huge and strange creatures they are, thought Haldir. Broad and heavily muscled from shouldering their massive armor; flaxen fleece covering chest, arms and legs.
Eomer looked out at them for a moment, then turned to Haldir. He tied the leather leash to his wrist and unlocked the manacles with a key from a thong around his neck.
"Strip."
Haldir looked at him blankly. He understood the command, but, hungry, tired and frightened, his body simply refused to act. He shakily called his dignity to the fore and fixed Eomer with a haughty sneer.
In a move almost too swift to see, Eomer pulled the leash to him and grabbed Haldir's hair, jerking his head back. "When I give an order, my slave, you obey me immediately. Is that clear to one as stupid as you? Shall I show you what to do?"
Haldir struggled to back up. Eomer shoved him hard, knocking him to the ground. He towered over Haldir, stepping on the end of the leash to hold him in place. Slowly he peel off his own linen undertunic, his rough cotton pants, then his linen leggings.
Naked and near at hand, Eomer was, if possible, more intimidating still. His powerful muscles clenched and bunched under his scarred skin. A tattoo of a black horse in full stride stretched across his shoulder blades. Golden hair, heavy on his chest, trailed down to form a soft pelt around his manhood. A cruel, hard warrior without mercy or compassion. Despair and terror welled up in Haldir's heart, wrenching a sobbing breath from him before he could regain control.
Eomer smiled at the sound. "Now strip, thrall." He made no move to lift his foot from the leash, so Haldir endeavored to remove his tunics and leggings whilst flat on his back. Humiliated, he lay naked, looking up at Eomer.
Picking up the leash, Eomer wrapped it about his wrist twice, then snapped Haldir to his feet and led him into the water. Camred and Trewyn ceased their ablutions and splashing to approach the elf.
"By all the gods but he's beautiful, Eomer," breathed Trewyn. "So slender. And so fair he seems to glow. Such smooth skin." Haldir flinched at their close inspection, but had nowhere to retreat.
Eomer pulled him closer, possessively, then thrust him underwater and held him there. Haldir thrashed and bucked but Eomer's grip on his neck was like iron. When he at last thought his spirit would leave his body, Eomer pulled back on the leather noose and Haldir gasped avidly for breath. "Mine. Live or die at my pleasure, elf."
Camred and Trewyn exchanged anxious glances. Eomer readied to prove his dominance again when Trewyn laid a hand on his forearm.
"Give him over to me, Eomer," said Trewyn softly. "Let me take him whilst you bathe."
Eomer glared at him for a moment, then, to the surprise of all, handed over the tether. "Keep him near, Trewyn, for if he flees, it will be your hide that pays the price."
Without taking his eyes off Eomer, Trewyn agreed in a soothing voice and slowly reached for the lead. Camred turned back to deeper water, calling to Eomer to join him.
Haldir had watched the interplay in fearful silence, wondering if his situation had taken a turn for better or for worse. When Eomer had waded out to mid-stream and began washing, Haldir glanced at Trewyn. The warrior, who had been frowning slightly at his companions, gently smiled at the elf.
"Come, then. What are you called, is it Haldir? Come, Haldir, and let's get you warm again."
Low, soft words said to calm Haldir more than to convey meaning, and kind touches to guide him out of the river. Haldir dared another glance.
"I'm sorry for what's happened to you, little elf," Trewyn whispered. "We will prevail upon him to release you, but Eomer is a fierce warrior and greatly protective of his land. He has lost near every blood kin he had and has been banished from his home. He now sees everyone as an enemy. I'll try to keep you safe, Haldir, but you must be careful not to cross him. Can you do that for me?"
Haldir nodded, responding to the first kindness shown in this very long, terrifying day.
"I will protect you as I can, but you must be watchful," Trewyn added, rubbing Haldir with a rough cloth and helping him into his undertunic and leggings. "Stay close. We will get Eomer to return to his senses and he'll see that this is wrong."
Gauging the length of time Camred could keep Eomer in the water, Trewyn guided Haldir up to the fire and thrust a bowl of soup and bread into his hands. "Eat quickly. I'll stand guard."
Too soon, the peace ended. Thunder rumbled across the sky and that drove the two men from the river. Eomer reclaimed the leash. A few more minutes around the campfire, during which Haldir was excluded from sharing the wine or the conversation, then preparations were made for bed.
"Hold him again," Eomer directed Camred, the more compliant of his two companions. As Camred moved over Haldir to restrain him, Eomer again attached the iron bracelets to his wrists and the strange two-manacle chain to his ankle. The key went into his pack.
"Come with me, my captive."
In light of Trewyn's advice and wishing no further violence, Haldir responded immediately, eyes downcast. As much as his proud heart rebelled against his acquiescence, his tired, sore body demanded it of him.
At the mouth of the small overhang of rocks, Eomer laid down a sheepskin rug, protected from the damp by its natural lanolin, and a thick wool blanket, rolling two tunics up as pillows.
Haldir eyed the outcropping dubiously. He was accustomed to sleeping in the trees, under the stars, in the open air; every fiber of his being screamed at entering even the roomiest of caves.
Haldir's final humiliation became apparent when Eomer knelt to unfasten one of the two manacles from Haldir's ankle and locked it around his own. "There," he sneered, "try to run in the night and you will have to drag me with you."
Without further conversation, he shoved Haldir into the snug shelter. Despite Trewyn's warnings, Haldir instinctively pushed back, choking at the closed-in space. It was futile against Eomer's superior strength. With his back against the rock wall and Eomer's large body blocking the entrance, Haldir could not catch his breath, feeling he was being cast into a grave. "Let me out," he gasped. "Please! Let me out, I can't breathe."
"Never. Think you anyone breathes easily whilst Saruman threatens Middle Earth with your help? Any further noise and I'll choke the life out of you with pleasure."
Haldir closed his eyes tightly and thought of open forests and star-filled skies. He called upon the Valar, his ancestors, the spirits of the wood for peace in his mind. The illusion worked – barely – to calm his breathing. His poor, abused body took pity on his mind and granted it sleep as thunder rumbled and the rain began.
Rumil, ever the blanket thief. Haldir squirmed in the cool of the rainy night, seeking warmth. If I can't have the blanket, he'll have to supply the heat himself! He rolled toward the warm body, pressing close and burying his face in Rumil's nape, and drifted back to sleep. Later, he nearly awoke at Rumil's shifting, moving only to avoid an elbow. Waiting unconsciously for his brother to settle, he then burrowed into Rumil's sheltering arms, where, back to chest and legs entwined, he nestled for a more comfortable position and slept again.
And awoke from that peaceful dream to his continuing nightmare. Facing the solid back wall of the cave, he gasped and tried to sit up, only to hit his head on the rock just a hand-span or two above his head. His freedom was further constricted by arms like iron bands around his chest.
"Lie back down with me, my thrall, for I kept you warm this night when you came to me and now you owe me my due."
Haldir froze at Eomer's words. He stiffened, moved his body away from Eomer's heat, but not before feeling his hard length, insistent with need. Please, Elbereth, please do not let this happen to me this way.
"I will not take you here, but you will provide me relief. Lie still and submit to me." Eomer pulled down the thin leggings and slid his rigid shaft between Haldir's slim thighs. Groaning, he began to rock back and forth, alternately tightening and loosening his hold on Haldir's body.
Haldir clenched his fists and moved away from Eomer's oppressive presence. He spread his legs as much as the chain allowed, seeking to lessen contact. Eomer gave a harsh laugh and threw a muscular thigh over Haldir, holding him motionless and re-forming the warm, tight channel into which he thrust.
Shame, his now constant companion, engulfed him as he submitted to Eomer's primal rutting. I know now why elves die if taken by force. I am dishonored and sullied by the manner in which he seeks his pleasure. I am not unfamiliar with passion, but this resembles that not at all. I would not survive, in mind, spirit or body, if he should decide to complete the act.
Eomer's breath came in harsh gasps, his groans echoing in the small cave. His short, hard stabs against Haldir's slender body became powerful thrusts and with a triumphant cry, his seed shot forth in great gouts over the elf's thighs. A moment's reprieve, then Eomer scooped up his slick fluid and anointed Haldir, rubbing it into his chest, his neck, across his most private parts, between his legs. "Mine, mine, mine," Eomer crooned.
Breakfast was a quick meal, taking whilst standing, the ground and wood too wet for a fire. Haldir, manacled and dressed in his light guardian clothing but still barefoot, shivered in the raw morning chill. Trewyn quickly handed Haldir a waterskin before Eomer could protest. But as Trewyn made to give him fruit and bread, Eomer stepped between them and intercepted it.
"My captive. All food comes only from me if he has earned it. Today he has earned it." A cruel smile left Haldir without doubt what Eomer considered payment.
Trewyn kept up the light banter, attempting a peaceful start to this day.
"Here, Eomer, I'll wrap Haldir in this, that he doesn't perish of the cold," Trewyn removed a warm cloak from his pack. "Ah, it's a bit too big, but if I pin it, it might do. How is that, Haldir? Better?" Trewyn looked meaningfully into Haldir's eyes, touched the clasp again and nodded slightly.
A clasp. What does Trewyn intend it for? Too small for a weapon. Is it a trick, or a cruel joke?
Eomer grunted, unconcerned with Haldir's comfort beyond feeding him. He readied his mount, then knelt to unlock Haldir's ankle manacles. Unwilling to witness this sign of his bondage, Haldir grimly looked straight ahead. Straight at Trewyn, who glanced at Eomer's hands on the manacles, at the clasp holding Haldir's cloak, then raised an eyebrow.
Not a weapon at all, but a tool! Hope, gone for a long day and night, surged through his body. His resolve strengthened, fortified with sleep, food and the unexpected kindness of Trewyn. Today his captivity would end and tonight he would sleep in the woods of Lorien.
Gone was the confusion, terror and despair of yesterday. He was Haldir of Lorien, not some horseman's plaything, not an animal to be tethered and branded. Eomer's brutish actions served only to reinforce why the elves kept to themselves, away from crude, barbaric men. When he returned to Lorien, he would advise against ever allying with men. Let them fight their own battles and, if there was any justice, fall to Saruman's forces and die painful deaths, leaving Middle Earth free of their stench.
Eomer swung into his saddle and motioned for Camred to hoist Haldir up. The cloak provided little protection against Eomer's overwhelming presence. He pulled Haldir back, settling him against his large body. Haldir could feel the heat across his back and along the length of his legs. Remembering their shameful interlude at dawn, Haldir squirmed forward.
"Stay still, my own," Eomer growled in his ear, as he tied the leather noose around Haldir's neck again and looped it through the manacles. "I wish to enjoy your body again."
As the three Rohirrim and their captive rode along the river bank and then up into the hills, Eomer enclosed Haldir in an one-armed embrace. The cloak provided privacy for his hand and the natural gait of the horse caused their bodies to move together in a rhythm that humiliated Haldir and delighted Eomer, giving him an unending store of comments to whisper into Haldir's ear.
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