Brother, where art thou?

Chapter 2:

An unfriendly welcome

As Elladan rode through the gate of the little town named Adlen, a hundred leagues north of Rivendell, he instantly felt the hostility greeting him.

He inclined his head towards the two guards, only to receive dark scowls from the burly humans. Full expecting that the guards would stop him, he slowed his horse but to his surprise they did not call out to him. He felt their piercing gazes at his back, while he slowly entered the town.

The streets were full of humans tending to their business. He instantly felt uncomfortable as he looked at the grey buildings and decided that the whole town looked uninviting.

The people passing by looked either unfriendly, afraid, or didn’t acknowledge him at all. The dark-haired elf dismounted with a sigh to avoid accidentally colliding with people in the bustling crowd. He arched an eyebrow. What was going on here?

The elves had a history of good relations with these townspeople; through many years of trading with the little town.

He sighed again and shrugged his shoulders. He was weary and wanted nothing more then to complete his task and then return home. For weeks now he had been travelling to buy supplies for the winter which Rivendell could not provide for itself.

This was the fifth town on his route and he only wanted to do what he needed to do as quickly as possible. He only wondered why the town was in such bad shape. What had become of the supplies Rivendell regularly sent?

He was jerked from his thoughts as he nearly bumped into a man, suddenly standing there out of nowhere. He was about to apologize as the man snapped at him.

“Watch out, elf.” he hissed angrily. Narrowing his eyes, Elladan looked up surprised at the unfriendly tone.

“You got in my way, human, not the other way ‘round, but if I have hindered you, then I’m sorry,” Elladan said, not wanting to attract any further attention. He started to go around the man, who stubbornly refused to move aside, as another man, standing behind the speaker, forcefully grabbed the mane of his horse and yanked hard, causing the beast to whinny.

Elladan’s head snapped toward the other man and glared at himangrily. “Release him at once!” he said in a low voice.

The man was not at all intimidated, yet he released the mane and stepped closer toward the dark-haired elf. “You stand in our way, elf. We don’t want you here. I suggest you leave now and crawl back into the woods where you belong.”

Elladan´s anger rose. What had he done to deserve such ill-will? He took a quick look around and saw other men coming closer. He had no illusions on which side they stood.

Then he glared back at the man, now standing right in front of him. “I will leave when I’m finished here and not a second earlier. Now, move aside!” he growled with one eye constantly watching his surroundings.

As the man reached to grab the elf’s tunic, a yell came from across the marketplace. “Harad!” an old man shouted, “let the elf be and back off!” For long seconds the situation seemed frozen, as the two men contemplated what to do.

Finally they scowled at the old man, turned, and walked directly toward him. As they passed the old man they pushed him to the ground. “Be careful, old fool, or something will happen to you,” the older of the two hissed and within seconds they were gone.

With a displeased murmur, the gathered crowd disappeared and Elladan had the bad feeling that they were disappointed that nothing had happened. Patting his mount on his long neck, Elladan resumed moving and, crossing the marketplace, extended his hand, helping the old man back onto his feet. “Thank you,” he said. “Are you hurt?”

The old man shook his head and looked at the elf’s concerned eyes. “You should not linger here too long. The town is dangerous of late. Much has changed in the past two years and not to the better. The new leader Aduran is a tyrant and not very fond of strangers, to put it lightly. And watch out for his son, Harad. Aduran is a fool, but Harad is cold as ice and a life means nothing to him.”

Elladan’s concern increased. “Two men cannot harass a whole town. Why does no-one act against them?”

The old man sighed ever looking over his shoulder. “They are brutal and reckless. Everybody who has acted against them, has mysteriously disappeared, or been found at the river with a cut throat. No one knows who is secretly loyal to them. There are many traitors and spies all over.”

Elladan shook his head. He didn’t like the sound of this one bit. “But my kin supplies them with provisions for the winter,” he stated incredulously.

“Yes,” the old man nodded, “but Aduran and his son sell the provisions to the Easterlings and the people here are still hungry and not prepared for the winter.”

Elladan closed his eyes briefly. As soon as he was back at home he would look into the best way to deal with this situation, but for now he must complete his task. He would certainly not skip it because of a few over-agitated men. Before he could ask the man more he had disappeared. Elladan shrugged his shoulders and resumed his way.

He rounded a corner and stepped into a small alleyway leading to the stables. He heard hurried footsteps behind him. He whirled around, but it was already too late. A heavy wooden club connected hard with the side of his head, rendering him unconscious.

………………………………………..

As he awoke the first sensation he felt was pain; throbbing pain that pulsed in waves through his head. As he tried to open his eyes he felt warm blood trickle down his temple to soak into his tunic. With his eyes squeezed shut he tried to sit up, only to realize that his hands were bound behind his back.

Ungracefully he fell back and took slow breaths to dampen the pain in his head somewhat. After a while he opened his eyes again and tried to focus his blurred vision. He didn’t succeed and realized that the head wound was serious enough to worry him.

He leaned back and tried to relax, finding movement difficult with his hands bound. He was surrounded by darkness and it was cold. After the rushing of blood in his ears had quietened somewhat, he heard voices.

Straining, he tried again to search his surroundings, identifying the place as some sort of storeroom.  Despite his pounding headache he extended his senses to distinguish the spoken words.

“Are you mad, son?” an angry voice hissed. “You have nearly killed the elf and what do you think should we do with him now?”

“I don’t care,” the other voice responded. “I don’t want them in our town.”

“Neither do I, but now we cannot let him go. He would disturb our plans.”

“Exactly. We must get rid of him and quickly, before anyone asks foolish questions.”

Elladan swallowed and his blood ran cold. Their intentions toward him were now clear. He must escape somehow or he was dead. There was no room for questions or explanations now. But how could he achieve anything in his current state? He struggled wildly to loosen the bonds but without any bit of success. The only thing he gained was the increased pounding of his head.

Before he could think about what to do next the door opened and the two men he had heard stood in the door frame. The younger of the two was Harad.  He was one of the thugs he had met earlier in the day.  The other was most likely Aduran, his father and the mayor of this town.

“Look, he’s awake,” Harad exclaimed. “They are tough, as I said.” He leaned forward and to check the elf’s bound hands.

Quicker that a mortal eye could follow Elladan kicked out and smashed his boot directly against his captor’s knee. Harad stumbled back with a cry of pain. With both hands he held his quickly swelling knee and looked accusingly, despite his pain at his father.

“As I said, they are uncivilised and unbending.” The older man snorted and shook his head. “Get rid of him and take care of his belongings. No sign should indicate that he was here.”

Adruan turned on his heel and Elladan saw his last hope, to talk sense in someone with enough wit, leaving the storeroom.

“I’m going to enjoy killing you.” Harad said and hobbled nearer, still holding his injured knee. The lust to kill sparkled clearly in his eyes. Elladan swallowed. This man was definitely mad, and if no-one stopped him, his chances of survival ran thinner with every passing moment.

Before Elladan could think of how to escape this madman, he gasped as Harad´s boot connected hard with his unprotected ribs. He gritted his teeth as another kick crashed into his upper torso. Unable to defend himself with his hands bound behind his back, he curled up as tightly as possible to protect his body at least a little against the vicious blows. After a while, he had no idea of how long, his world exploded into pain. He could not hold on any longer and slipped into blackness.

The man realized that the elf didn’t move any more. He stopped kicking him and grabbing a fistful of raven hair, he lifted the bloodstained face. He snorted unwillingly, as he saw that the hated creature was still alive.

“Can you not die?” he spat and carelessly dropped the elf’s head back to the ground. He stomped out of the building, only to return a few minutes later with two of his companions on his heels.

“Is he dead?” one of the men asked, looking emotionlessly at the crumbled form on the floor.

“Not yet, but I think we’ll let him drown by throwing him off the pier into the river. We’ll let the river hide the body after the water had done its’ work,” Harad chuckled and smirked evilly.

………………………………………………………………..

When Elladan returned to awareness the next time, at first he couldn’t recognize where he was. The only thing he registered was the copper taste of blood in his mouth and that it was not yet dawn. His body ached so fiercely all over that the pain overwhelmed all other senses. He inhaled deeply to clear his foggy mind, but regretted this action instantly, as his cracked ribs protested vigorously.

Now he felt that he was being dragged over a wooden surface and through thick fog he could hear the ripple of water. Too tired and in too much pain to do anything he failed to notice, that the dragging had stopped. He lay there barely conscious and aware of his surroundings.

Suddenly he felt movement again and gasped as he was tossed over the edge of the pier into cold water. The cold activated his numbed senses and in growing panic he struggled wildly against the rope binding him. Without conscious thought he mentally cried out and sent a desperate message through the bond connecting him with his brother. *Help me, Elrohir*, he cried, never aware that no sound left his mouth.

His clothes were quickly soaked through and dragged him downwards. He didn’t feel the pain anymore as the lack of oxygen lulled him into a dangerously sleepy state. Eventually he gave in to the beckoning darkness, where no pain and cold existed anymore.

*I’m sorry, brother*, was his last waking thought.

To be continued………….