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Horn of Plenty	By : TICS Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 946 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Horn of Plenty
- 1
Title: Horn of Plenty
Author: TICS
Rated: R
Genre: Humor, Slash, slashy-humor, humorous slash
Summary: Orom� hates his name.
Disclaimer: I own nothing...not the elves, not the places, not the concept...nothing. Well, I DO own a copy of every book the Professor wrote...but I hardly think that gives me a proprietary interest...I'm just playing, and will put them back neatly where I found them.

A/N: Written for the challenge "write something about the Valar (really specific, isn't it?) at the galadric_arrow Yahoo group.
Horn of Plenty

Orom� was pacing. Never a good sign.

"What ails you? Your feet have been worrying at that rug for an hour, Orom�," N�mo asked, looking up from the scroll in which he had been painstakingly writing.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Nothing does not wear furrows into my hand-woven rug, Orom�. Which, might I add, was given me by my wife on our last anniversary. What I wanted was a new chess set, but what I got was a rug, and if anything happens to my rug she'll think that I did it on purpose because I wanted a new chess set, and I'll wind up a guest in my own Halls."

"You play chess?"

"You are missing the point. Stop pacing!"

Orom� ceased his incessant wandering. flopping himself into the armchair that was set before the crackling fireplace, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He began to drum his fingers relentlessly on the wooden armrest.

N�mo resumed his writings�for all of five minutes until Orom�'s tapping began to rattle his brain.

"Orom�!" he exploded, slamming down his quill. "For the love of Il�vatar, what is wrong with you today?"

"Nothing."

"So you have said, and yet you seek to drive me insane with that rat-a-tat-tatting! Something is wrong�please, just tell me and be done with it!" N�mo begged, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Loud Trumpeter."

"What?"

"Loud Trumpeter. That is what my name means. What kind of name is that? I do not even HAVE a trumpet�I have a horn. There is a difference�a definite, distinct difference. Trumpets are for�marching bands and jazz clubs. Horns are for hunting and�and�"

"And Vikings?" N�mo offered, trying to be helpful. "Reindeer? Horse-less carriages?"

"Calling the hounds!" Orom� finished, frowning at the other Vala. "Masculine things�my name makes me sound as if I should be in a musical comedy playing dinner theatre somewhere�"

"That is not so, Orom�," N�mo demurred, running his fingers through his thick dark hair. "I cannot believe you are so upset about this�you have lived with this name since the first Song!"

"Aye�and have hated it every moment since. You wouldn't understand�your own name is strong and masculine - prison fortress. It conjures up images of stone walls, and iron bars�"

"And prisoners in communal showers getting wet and dropping the soap, and bending to reach for the soap, and�"

"What?"

N�mo eyes re-focussed from the pleasant little daydream he was having, seeing Orom� staring at him. "Um�nothing�nothing at all. So�what is it you wish to do about your name, Orom�? You cannot change it at this point of the game."

"Why not?"

"Well�for one thing, all of the towels are already monogrammed. Secondly, think of all the statues, paintings, and tapestries and such�the Elves would likely pull their hair out by the roots if they had to scratch "Orom�" off each and every one and carve and paint and weave something else in its place. And then we'd have to worry about all the songs and the Lays and such�"

"One Who Blasts Loudly On A Horn!" Orom� shouted, standing up to face N�mo. "That's the other translation of my name! It sounds like I've farted!"

"Did you? Because if you did, it is perfectly alright�better out than in and all that�"

"NO I DID NOT! N�mo�I hate my name!"

N�mo stood and walked around the desk. He reached out brushed the angry tears that had welled in Orom�'s eyes from his satin cheeks. "Orom�you know it is a horn. I know it is a horn. Everyone in Valinor knows that the Valar�ma is a horn. A BIG horn. A great, big, shiny masculine horn that calls the hounds to the hunt. We know this and you should not worry that we think less of you because of the literal translation of your name into a language of people who don't even believe in us anymore."

"That is another thing, N�mo�why do we sit idly in Valinor instead of making ourselves known to these people?"

"Do you really want them as worshipers, Orom�? The Elves, now they are friends as well as worshipers�and they are easy on the eye to boot. Men? Hairy, smelly creatures that reproduce like rabbits. Even their women are hairy! I've heard tell that they have the need to cut the hair off of their skin every few days! Great Eru�it would be like being worshiped by a troop of orangutans."

Orom� considered N�mo's words, biting his lower lip as he did so. His full, soft-looking lower lip, N�mo noticed. The one that was connected to his equally soft-looking upper lip. That hid his even white teeth, which in turn sheltered his warm, wet tongue. Suddenly N�mo felt quite warm himself.

"Eh hem�" N�mo said, fanning his hand before his face. "Warm today, isn't it?"

"Don't change the subject. I still don't like my name. From now on, I want to be called�er�Hercules."

"You can't be called Hercules�that's taken."

"By whom?"

"By Hercules, you twit. Zeus' Hercules�lives over on Mt. Olympus," N�mo replied, thankful for the small distraction from the growing distraction in his groin area.

"Oh. Well then, I'd like to be called�er�Thor."

"No can do. That name's also taken, and before you even ask, it's taken by Thor in Vallhalla."

"Damn it! Isn't there a name I can use?"

"Yes�you can use "Orom�."

"Very funny. From now on I�m going to call you "Nemo."

"Hmph. I am only trying to help, Orom�."

"Well you aren't doing a bang-up job of it, Nemo!"

"N�mo!"

"If the fish fits�" Orom� sniffed, turning his back on the other Vala.

N�mo sighed, shaking his dark-haired head. His eyes traveled a bit south, and suddenly they were transfixed by Orom�'s shapely rear, as showcased in the tight leather riding leggings he wore.

"Er�Orom�um�I have a question for you�" N�mo said, trying to keep his voice even and his hands from grabbing Orom�'s firm buttocks.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever�er�I mean, was there ever a time while you were out hunting with the Elves that you�um�you know�"

"That I what?"

"Found yourself with a problem�a�hard problem�a big, hard problem�"

"You're babbling, N�mo."

"Sigh. I am erect, Orom�."

"Of course you are�otherwise you'd be sitting," Orom� replied, turning to look askance at N�mo.

Nearly growling, N�mo stepped forward, placing his hand directly over Orom�'s�horn. "I am in NEED, Orom�!"

"Hands off the Valar�ma, N�mo. No one touches that besides V�na or me. Not that I touch myself�I mean, only when I'm bathing�to get clean�you know what I mean!" Orom� stuttered, glancing down at N�mo's hand, which still had a firm grip on Orom�'s privates.

"You call your member the Valar�ma?" N�mo asked, not removing his hand, but clearly surprised.

Sheepishly, Orom� nodded. "It was V�na's idea�I won�t let her blow the real one."

"I'll make a deal with you, Orom�you help me�and I'll see if I can find you a new name."

"Deal!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What do you mean, you've changed your name?" V�na asked, clearly upset and confused at her husband's revelation.

"It was N�mo's idea�and I like it," Orom� replied, shrugging his broad shoulders and nodding at the Vala who stood just behind him.

"I am NOT calling you Louis Armstrong! Who is that, anyway?"

"A famous human musician�he played the horn."

"He does blow a mean horn, V�na�" N�mo offered, patting Orom� on the shoulder, and winking. "And he's pretty good with the Valar�ma, too!"
The End
- 1
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Horn of Plenty