Harvester of Sorrow by Azzy

I know you're watching
You know I see
My face in your eyes
I know you see

As I run blindly
From the fear I know's not real
Cover my face
Do not watch my eyes

Let me hate for you
And hate for me
My face in your eyes
All I can see

As I run blindly
From the fear I know's not real
Cover my face
Do not watch my eyes

As I run freely
I will leave your world behind
Carry me further
Do not see my lie

-- Miranda sex garden – cover my face

The plains

No matter how much Legolas tried to focus on something else, just like Elladan had taught him when he had a bad dream, the men's hands were just too real. No fairytale fantasy could chase away that burning sensation from his skin.

And when the hands got rougher and more inquisitive, his vision burst like a balloon, and all he thought of was escape. He could not escape into a dream world; this was real, ever so real.

The man that had been sitting by his side laughed at Legolas' feeble attempt of escape. "Where are you going, little elfie?" he chuckled as he unbuckled his belt. "Oh you can't answer, I forgot!" He roared with laughter and let his pants drop down around his ankles.

That sound alone caused Legolas to panic. He could not see what was going on, but he felt the tension in the air, and decided it was not a good omen. He tried once more to crawl away under the weight of the man on top of him. But this only resulted in a firmer grip on his hips, and his face being squashed further down in the dirt.

When he suddenly felt rough hands spreading his buttocks, he thought he had lived to feel the worst he had ever imagined. Never in his life had he thought someone would touch him 'there' and yet these insensitive hands did.

He had no choice but to let this happen, had no means of escape.

Suddenly he felt it as someone had pushed a burning poker inside him. He opened his mouth to scream. No real sound came out, instead his mouth filled with dirt. Nothing Elladan had said had prepared him for this.




Another place on the plains

Theodred woke from a disturbing dream, and looking around in the dark, he saw the rest of his men asleep. All except Eomer, who was sitting by the fireplace humming to himself softly as he boiled water for what appeared to be tea. Theodred got up from his sleeping place and slowly walked to the fire and Eomer.

Eomer looked up and smiled. "You should rest more, my friend."

"I don't want to rest," Theodred pouted.

Eomer laughed and patted the log next to him. "Nay, you need not to rest anymore," he smiled, "but if I return you looking like a drowned rat, your father will have my head on a platter."

"Don't worry Eomer, I will look every bit my charming self when we return," Theodred mumbled and sat down next to his friend.

Eomer gently wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulder. "Nightmare?" he asked softly.

Theodred nodded. "If only I knew what I had done to deserve to be tormented in sleep as well," he sighed and leaned against Eomer. "Something is wrong," he mumbled. "Don't know what it is, but something is coming my way whether I want it or not."

"These things are called fate, and we discussed that once before," Eomer whispered. "Now just sit here with me. We still have several hours until daybreak, and you need more rest before we head back to Rohan."




The plains

Legolas had lost count; the relentless pressure and groping hands didn't even seem to bother him anymore. As he slipped in and out of consciousness his only wish was to just not feel anymore. He heard the merry laughter, and felt something oozing down his thighs. His imagination did not even come close to the reality of this brutality. And Legolas feared that this would claim his very spirit.

Should he survive... He didn't even think this thought to its conclusion, when he was disturbed in his odd little bubble by a change of hands and pressure. He squeezed his eyes tight waiting for a new burning stab. But it never came, instead they all let go, and he slumped down on the ground.

The man with the vicious voice kicked him in the side. "He fainted, the little elfie is out cold," he laughed.

Legolas did not understand what it was that was funny, but he just lay still, hoping the ground would open and swallow him whole. To his surprise the voices became fainter, the mortals left! Now he was confused. He had been so sure that they would kill him, that he had not even considered that he had been alive to witness them leave.

Now their voices were so faint that he suddenly felt sure they had actually left. His apathy disappeared instantly, and panic kicked in, urged on by a survival instinct he didn't even knew he had. He opened his eyes wide, and slowly raised himself to his knees. Even though he wanted to fly away, his body would not obey. His knees were shaking and he had to draw his breath in uneven, wheezy gasps of air. He felt the darkness close in on him again, but he shook his head. Not now! He had to get out of here.

He pushed backwards until he was in a sitting position, but then his abused behind shot arrows of flaming pain up into his stomach.

run, run, run, run, run

He slowly and very ungracefully got to his feet. He winced in pain every time he tried to move his legs. He was just about to give up ever getting his body to move another inch, and just lay down, hoping some wild animals would kill him off. Then he suddenly heard a noise, and his body moved without him thinking. He just ran, not caring that he was half naked, and that the bloodstains would probably make a pretty clear trail. He just wanted to get away. He could not let this happen once more.




Some other place on the plains

Eomer had almost fallen asleep, listening to the sound of even breathing coming from Theodred who slept next to him. Poor cousin, even in his sleep he looked troubled.

Theodred stirred when Eomer suddenly turned his head. "Did you hear that?" he whispered to the dark-haired man.

Theodred blinked and opened his eyes, listening to the night – yes there was definitely a noise. "Breathing?" he whispered.

"It sounds like someone is hurt," Eomer said. "No one would wheeze like that."

"Orcs?" Theodred said and reached for his sword.

"Don't know," Eomer said and stood up, followed by Theodred, who went into the darkness.
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