By: Dana
Summary: A choice is made, and then the results.
Characters: Edroc Tunnelly and some others
Pairings: None (well, Edroc/Callie, if you want, and Idric/Mimosa, as well)
Rating: Hard R/NC-17
Warnings: Gen, angst, violence, the acts of Ruffians. Non-consensual sexual content. Um, that's kind of graphic even.
Author's Notes: I've meant to write about my Newbury Tunnellys, and I guess its best to get the dark out of the way as soon as you want. In the spring of 1419, Edroc's brother Idric marries Mimosa Oldbuck, and Edroc saves his brother and his new sister-in-law from a rather dark fate. This is that story, though somewhat condensed. I had a time figuring out what I should rate it, as well - just know it does contain some rather heavily implied sexual content, though nothing so terribly graphic as it could have been.
... I liked the way I told the story, though.
Also, you'll note I won't call this slash. I just won't.
Also, really note the warnings. This isn't a nice story.
Series Index: In a Sunless Year.
Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with J.R.R. Tolkien or New Line Cinema. Any and all characters and situations that have been borrowed are for the author's personal use only, and for the entertainment of others.

Sometime in the spring of SR 1418

'Have I died?' he asked, and his brother shook, laugh brittle in the cool spring air. Edroc went on, saying, 'Have you come to bury me, then?'

'We've come to bring you home, Edi,' Idric said, and then went on – voice gaining speed as well as pitch with each repetition of Edroc's name. 'Edi, Edi, Edroc.'

Edroc, feeling far away but all too near, wondered at the mess of tears falling wet on his brother's cheeks. He moved his arm, or thought he did – he turned his head, slightly, groaned as his vision blurred.

'Farry, come here, fetch your brothers,' Idric said, but then his voice went out – when it came again, Edroc heard it as if from a distance. He felt as if he would be sick.

He shuddered, and groaned, and that was warning enough for them his brother was holding him as he shook and shuddered, coughed and spewed, tears now running wet on his own face. He fell away from that moment, only to return. He recalled Grick, all of him, his smell and his taste, his bruise-cruel hands. Edroc laughed as he shook, laughed wild and broken, and collapsed, wasted, broken, lost.

He remembered with clarity now his brother's wedding, and the three Men who had come up from the Bridge, through the Gate. The sun had shone so brightly, and the day had been so lovely, bright, and Idric had married his Mimosa, and – and, shaking, Edroc coughed, gripped one hand tight into the cloth of his brother's shirt. He couldn't move himself, but Idric supported him, and one of – oh, Edroc couldn't see, wouldn't know. His breath hitched on a sob, and so as memory had washed over him, pain did too. If he had needed to stand on his own two legs, his knees would have buckled. He breathed out on a gasp of pain, bruised and sore inside and out, and he bent his head against his brother's shoulder. He recalled Mard and the third, the one whose name he hadn't heard, how they'd laughed over him, pushed him round as they cut and pulled off his clothes. He remembered –

Mard's breath had been hot, stank of some cheap and horrible drink, and Edroc's eyes rolled back into his head. If he could have blacked out, he might have lived with that, but Mard pressed him tight, fingers denting, leaving bruises, no doubt. Mard laughed over him, spun him round, thumped the back of his head as he laughed even louder. 'Now, Master Rat, you brought this on yourself,' and Edroc stood taller, for he hadn't anything else but dignity, and even that was fading fast.

Then Mard was in him, pinning him and ripping him in half, and Edroc shook and screamed and sobbed –

'Ed, Edi, Edroc, it's me, it's your brother, you're safe, you're well,' Idric said, voice steady but wet, and Edroc gripped at him and tried to work his mouth, but couldn't. Then he fell into a swoon, which was good and helpful but not enough. It would have aided him more if he had been senseless when it would have mattered most.

'I'm sorry,' he said, voice holding steady. 'I'm sorry, Idric.'

'You haven't any need to apologise,' Idric said, voice still wet and now shaking. 'You saved us, you did. Edi, I–'

Edroc fell into such a haze, memory and pain, that he could not hear Idric now. He gasped and found himself on his hands and knees again, coughing, Grick's seed hot in his mouth, wet on his chin. 'There's a good lad,' the third laughed. 'Come on, I want a go.'

Edroc was pulled by his hair, then pulled up sitting. When he left his mouth shut, eyes rolling and him near senseless, the Man frowned and thumped the side of his head, then thumped him again in the gut. He doubled, and the Man laughed, tugged on his hair. He had his prick out, big and hard, and he gave another tug on Edroc's hair.

'Come now, lad, give us a suck.'

He groaned and laughed at the same time when Edroc stretched his mouth wide as he could, sobbing and choking at the same time. The hold on his hair loosened then pulled tight, and Edroc's vision burned to black. But he didn't fall beyond sense. The Man groaned and pushed him, muttering, 'ah, glory, tight, ah, yes,' and Mard's voice was heard from somewhere nearby, 'ah, but I'll rather have a go at that arse. Grick, have we any more wine?'

The Man at him pushed Edroc's head done when he spillt, and Edroc had to suck it all in, choking as he swallowed, eyes burning with hot tears. He felt useless, empty, and full of blank hate and burning pain, and he was pushed back. He sat for a moment but then fell, curled in on himself. He heard Grick's laugh, and then Mard pulled at him, pulled him up, forced his mouth onto Edroc's, bristle on his chin and brandy hot on his tongue.

Edroc pulled himself up from that dream, shaking as he did, teeth rattling and his head spinning. 'Stop it,' he said, but the pain didn't end, the memory swept over him once more. He heard his brother's voice, then someone else, female, but nothing more as he went under, again, arms all but wrenched from the sockets, wrists bound, dirt in his face and Mard splitting him open wide.

He –

He remembered the wedding itself, clear and bright and vivid, but no sense, no real feeling. The moment the Men had come, laughed and said how they'd have a bit of the new bride. How Mimosa had pushed herself against Idric, pale in her terror, and Idric so pale in his resistance, but standing tall. Edroc had pushed himself before his brother and his brother's new wife, had stood tall and told the Men to leave off.

They hadn't gone. They took what they wanted, food and drink. They said he would stand for the bride, and so long as he did as they wanted, they'd not go for her too.

– he screamed and came back to himself, panting, hot and cold at the same time, numb and shaking, memory pressing down on him so hard he thought he might lose himself completely. A cool cloth on his brow, his mother's voice, no, Rue Highbank, the healer, telling it was dream only, only dream, and there was naught about that could hurt him, now.

He must have been given something, something to calm him, for memory and pain both eased off him, slid away and left his vision burning but clear. 'I want to die,' he might have said, but in looking back, he couldn't tell if he had or if he had not. He fell away from himself, and it was Idric who sat at his bedside, now, the window behind him covered, but darkness crept in.

'How long?' he asked, for he needed to know if he could manage even that. Idric moved, Edroc felt his brother's touch at his hand, fingers pressing tight but reassuring.

'You slept through the day, and almost through the night again. Mistress Rue–'

'How long?' he asked, once more, for he hadn't meant that.

'Through morning. I thought you were dead.' Edroc couldn't feel now, and Idric's voice came from far away, lacking depth, lacking deeper emotion.

'I thought I was, too. Are you sure I'm not?'

'You're alive. You're alive, and you saved us, Misa and I both, and I–'

'Don't say it, Id, don't – s'no need. Just...'

He didn't know what. He let the words go, and thought followed after. If he dreamed, he couldn't tell, for he recalled nothing on waking, the morning next.

His Callie was there, face pale, hands trembling. But she smiled, strong as stone, and her eyes were shining bright. Edroc, though, did not want her to see him like this, and turned his aching head away.

'No,' she said, touching his hand. He looked at her, out of his own senses, looked at her and her smile, her hair copper-bright. 'No, Edi, I won't have you look away. I'm here for you, now and for ever after. I want you to know that. I won't have you be alone.'

He might have smiled, but the draught was stronger than the rest of him and he slipped again into sleep. When he woke again, Callie was there still, but asleep, her curls a' tumble, head pillow against one arm – but her other hand was gripping at is, as though it truly did not mean to ever let go.