You Can Still Be Free
Author: Ilyusha Wilderness_Child@hotmail.com
Pairing(s): Erestor/Olórin 'friendship'.
Rating: PG
- some vague mention of torture, nothing graphic though.
Summary:
Prequel of sorts to Istari Love
Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not
mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case, the great Mr
Tolkien. I just borrow them every now
and then :) And in this case, not only
do they belong do Mr Tolkien, this particular incarnation belongs to 3Jane and
I am eternally grateful to her for letting me take them out and play with them
for a while.
I promise to put them back exactly as I found
them... well, maybe not exactly ;)
Authors
Note: Be gentle, be kind and please
give feedback.... Flames welcome though they may dishearten... Burns heal after
all...
YOU CAN STILL BE FREE
Cool breeze and autumn leaves
Slow motion daylight
A lone pair of watchful eyes
Oversee the living
Feel the presence all around
A tortured soul
A wound unhealing
No regrets or promises
The past is gone
But you can still be free
If time will set you free
Time now to spread your wings
To take to flight
The life endeavour
Aim for the burning sun
You're trapped inside
But you can still be free
If time will set you free
But it's a long long way to go
Keep moving way up high
You see the light
It shines forever
Sail through the crimson skies
The purest light
The light that sets you free
If time will set you free
Sail through the wind and rain tonight
You're free to fly tonight
And you can still be free
If time will set you free
And going higher than mountain tops
And go high the wind don't stop
And go high
Free to fly tonight
Free to fly tonight
Savage Garden (D. Hayes/D. Jones)
**********
Cool breeze and autumn leaves
Slow motion daylight
He'd lost
all track of time... How long had he been down here? Would he see the world again? Would he live to see Arien rise in the sky
once more?
Would he
feel the wind gently tugging at his hair, would he hear it whistling through
the trees?
Would that
he could see daylight, just one more time...
A lone pair of watchful eyes
Oversee the living
Feel the presence all around
He could
feel it; there was something else here with him. He couldn't put a name to it, but he could
feel it. A presence,
lurking just in the shadows, watching him, watching all of them, well, all of
them that were left. It wasn't an
evil presence, that much he could tell. But what exactly it was, he did not know,
could not begin to even fathom. All he
knew was that this presence was somehow comforting.
A tortured soul
A wound unhealing
That's what
he was. Sauron knew he was losing the
fight. Elves and Men were winning the Battle of the Last Alliance. Sauron had ordered his minions to capture as
many elves as they could. He wanted to
know what they knew, wanted to know how to break through the barriers they were
putting up. Wanted to know how they
were winning, and how he was being defeated.
His orcs and goblins had snuck into an Elven camp late one night.
Little had been
left, save a few burnt remnants of the battle tents that once stood there, and
the rusting metal of swords. And now,
here he was.
Deep in the
fortress at Dol Guldur, captured along with the rest of his regiment.
Erestor of
Gondolin, right hand elf to the high King, Gil-galad, was a prisoner. He and his generals had stood little
chance. The orcs had taken them by
surprise and slaughtered the elves on watch, quickly subduing the sleeping
elves and brutally bringing them here.
To this dank dark pit, this festering hole, in the very bowels of the
earth, where fire ate through, on it's way to the surface. The smell was foul; the creatures
evil, but worse, worse of all was what was happening to them.
Torture.
Pure and simple.
Sauron
wanted to break them, wanted information.
He needed to know how to beat both the Elves and the Men. He needed to know how to win. Erestor wiped the blood out of his eyes with
his good hand, and straightened his legs as best he could in the cramped
cell. He ached all over, strips of flesh
torn out of his legs to try and make him talk.
His feet, beaten and burned, his arm broken. But still he didn't break. None of them did.
They knew
what was at stake if something was said.
Better to die and be welcomed by Mandos himself.
No regrets or promises
The past is gone
How they
did not know, but as more of them died, more of them lived. Sauron was not happy. He was not getting any results, so drawing on
some of the darkest magic Melkor had taught him, he
found a way to imprison souls. These
elves would not get to see Mandos; they would not find peace. He would keep them here, on this Middle
Earth, as punishment for their resilience.
Sauron had underestimated the strength of the elves his forces had
captured. They were dying without saying
anything. Ending their immortal lives in
the most terrible ways and still not breaking.
So he did what only he knew how to do.
He found a way to keep their souls tied to their abused bodies, to keep
them imprisoned for everlasting tortures.
But you can still be free
If time will set you free
Olórin
watched as the last, lone elf stretched in the darkness. He had watched for too long now. He had heard their cries and travelled to see
what was happening. He had not expected
to find what he did, Sauron abusing the Firstborn.
He had
flown down from Mt. Taniquetil and watched them die. No longer could he stand this. He had to do something. Sauron could not be allowed to finish what he
had started. This last elf had put up a
huge struggle, even now, his laboured breathing echoed around the walls, the blood
from his many wounds spread on the floor around him.
The smell
of the poison and the burnt flesh was something Olórin thought he was glad not
to be able to smell it. He had seen the
reactions of the last elves to go, the disgust on their faces as they smelt
their burnt flesh and singed hair. The pain
as they moved their damaged limbs and the struggle they had just to breath and stay alive.
This elf
had stood out. Olórin didn't know how he
had survived so far, but even he, as one of the lesser Maiar, could tell this
elf would not last much longer. Olórin
decided he could stand for it no more.
He had to do something... anything.
The feä of this elf would not be doomed to wander the halls of Dol
Guldur for eternity.
He didn't
know how Sauron had managed to stop their feä from travelling to Mandos' Halls,
but he had seen as one by one the elves gave up and faded,
how their souls were caught here, trapped within the walls of Sauron's
stronghold.
This elf was
important, he had seen this. The way the
other elves had talked to him and helped him when he was thrown back in the
cell after the prolonged torture sessions.
The way the other elves had drawn strength from him. And he had given it, right up until the last
elf. Now he was alone. Olórin vowed not to let this elf suffer the
same fate. He promised not to let this elf
die. The elf would go free.
Time now to spread your wings
To take to flight
The life endeavour
Aim for the burning sun
You're trapped inside
But you can still be free
The
dark-haired elf looked up, staring wildly around the cell. It was here again. That presence... But this time it seemed different. Before he had just felt the
presence on the edge of his conscious. But now, now it invaded him,
warming his chilled bones and soothing away his aches and pains. He could almost feel himself soaring above
ground, flying across the plains of Doriath, above the Blue Mountains and down towards his beloved
Gondolin.
Keep moving way up high
You see the light
It shines forever
He soared
way up high again and Erestor swore he could see the Two Trees alive and
alight. The simple sight gave him hope
and strength. He had always loved the
trees. Now they gave him something to
live for. A promise was made somewhere
in the darkness of that cell that he would see the Two Trees again. As Erestor slipped into a peaceful reverie, a
last thought occurred to him. Who had
made the promise?
Sail through the crimson skies
The purest light
The light that sets you free
He awoke
from his reverie stronger and more hopeful than he had felt for a long
time. He would fight this. He could survive. He had passed through the tortures so far,
and he had been shown the Trees. The
light emanating from them had filled him with a new hope and the strength to
fight. He had thought that all his
strength was lost, drained by the tortures and the pleas of his men. His false promises that
they would escape.
Had he
lied?
Could they
have escaped?
He sank
back against the wall, twisting awkwardly to avoid the pain from his broken
ribs. Despair flooded through him. He had failed. He had failed them all. They were all dead, all gone and only he was
left. What would happen now? Despite all that had happened, Erestor was still
convinced that he would survive. His
vision had shown him that life was still worth living. He knew it was a vision, either that or a hallucination. For many years now, he had only seen Gondolin
in his dreams. But he had seen it, the
sun rising, shining down and creating a vision of red and gold. He only had to wait. He would get out. He would be free again. He could almost feel the presence again;
soothing him, promising him that he would be free...
If time will set you free
A sudden noise
bought Erestor out of his troubled reverie.
He had shifted restlessly in his sleep, and now his feet ached. He reached down to rub some life back into
them, before recoiling in horror at the feel of them.
For a split
second, his tired mind wondered what had happened to them. Then it all fell into place. The raid, the capture, and
the tortures. He gazed around the
room again, trying to discern something in the darkness that prevailed. He had been sitting here alone for hours
now. Not even the orcs had come to drag
him for another torture. Another noise
echoed in the distance. Finally he heard
footsteps in the corridor outside.
He tensed against
the wall, ready to put up a fight. He
knew this would be his last. He barely
had enough strength left for anything else.
Voices sounded. Melodic voices.
//Elven voices// his fevered mind cried out hopefully. He held his breath as the door started to
open.
"By
the Valar... What happened here?"
Wait a minute... he recognised that voice.
"Quick,
we need light" And that voice!
These were people he knew, elves... his kin... his saviours.
"Master
Erestor!" An elf fell on his knees
before Erestor, his dark hair swept back into a single braid. He had come straight from battle,
that much Erestor's tired mind surmised.
"How do you fare?"
Erestor groaned and rolled his head, weakly trying to lift his good arm
to fend off the voices.
"Elrond...
leave him be. Can you not see he has
been through much? Let him be at
peace. We need to get him and anyone
else out of here before Isildur burns this abomination down."
"Aye,
you are right. Here
Master Erestor." The elf
named Elrond lifted at flask of water to Erestor's lips and let a few drops
trickle down his throat.
"No
one else..." he managed to say after swallowing the water.
"What! Erestor, are you saying you are the last elf
left alive?" Elrond clasped the elder elf's good hand in his and studied
his face. Erestor's downcast eyes told
him the answer. "Can you
walk?" A shake of the head had Elrond
grasping Erestor's hand more firmly as two more came to help him up.
As they
carried him out into the fresh air, Erestor could feel the presence once
more. He knew it would be for the last
time. He had survived. He was free.
Sail through the wind and rain tonight
You're free to fly tonight
The horse
they lifted him onto bore him down the hillside, towards the battlefield. A light rain began to fall, and Erestor lifted
his face to the sky, letting the soft rain fall on his face, washing away the
blood and tears. He had survived. He was free...
Now all he
had to do was get through the rest of his immortal life in the sorry state his
imprisonment had left him in.
*FINIS*