Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

The Returned	By : Liliana Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 8591 -:- 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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Please note that the disclaimer and warnings for this story are given at the begining of the first chapter.
CHAPTER 9:
Glorindel stood by the edge of a small pond, staring at the remains of the washcloth he held in his hands with a horrified expression. His golden locks were a sopping mess, his bare chest was covered with bruises and his leggings had a gaping tear just above one knee. Seated upon a large boulder beside him, a fully clothed and equally soaked Taurnil was wringing out his own darker tresses, while muttering a litany of obscenities learned through centuries of contact with the Dunedain rangers.
It had all started out well enough.
They had reached the pond shortly after mid-day and Glorfindel, deeming it to be the perfect place to carry out Taurnil's earlier suggestion, called a halt. The creature had promptly gone to the edge of the water, dropping down onto its belly to quench its thirst and Taurnil had turned to his Lord, with a grin.
" Perhaps this will not be so difficult, after all." He remarked, laughingly.
" Perhaps not. But then again, you are not the one about to take a bath with our unsightly new companion." was Glorfindel's wry retort.
He retrieved his soapcake and washcloth out of his travelling pack, setting the items down by a large boulder at the edge of the pond. He then quickly removed his weapons, overvest, tunic and boots. But he decided to keep his leggings on. The idea of being completely nude with the creature made him far more uncomfortable than he cared to admit. Though in truth, his modesty had nothing to do with any fear, or revulsion. Rather, it was caused by the inexplicable feeling that once again surged in his heart, filling him with something that seemed entirely out of place, given these odd circumstances.
" Mayhaps, my Lord, if you were to actually get in the water, the creature might just follow your example." Taurnil said, noticing Glorfindel's hesitation and giving his superior a mischievous grin.
The Balrog Slayer cast a dark look towards his second-in-command. A look that dissipated when he noticed that for all of his insolent mirth, Taurnil held a loosely nocked bow in his hands, ready to defend his Lord if need arose.
" Aye, mellon nin." He sighed, with exagerated dramatics " Best if I get on with it."
And without further ado, he did just that.
Sitting on his haunches a bit away, the creature cocked his head as he watched the golden one go into the pond. The sight filled him with wonder, for it had not occurred to his newborn mind that the precious water he quenched his thrist with, could also quench the discomfort he felt from his filth-caked skin. Taurnil, observing the creature from his vantage point upon the large boulder, saw the feral yellow eyes widen, before the dark-skinned face split into a toothy smile that told the elven scout that comprehension had dawned.
" My Lord!." He called out. " I believe it is work..."
At that moment, with what could only be described as a bestial whoop, the creature took a giant leap.
"...ing." Taurnil finished, as he watched the powerful figure sail through the air.
The creature landed in the deepest part of the pond, with a monumental splash.
Then promptly, sank like a rock.
Glorfindel, who had watched the being's trajectory with ever-widening eyes, sprung into action when the realization that the creature could not swim, hit him like a punch in the gut. With a few strokes, he reached the place where the body had disappeared and dove under the water. Somehow, the golden warrior succeeded in securing a grip under the creature's armpits and a moment later, they broke the surface of the pond. But it was shortlived, for with a mighty roar the creature began to wildly trash about, thus causing them both to sink under once again.
Taurnil dropped his bow and still fully clothed, dove into the pond, thinking only of helping his lord and friend. He quickly reached them and with his timely aid, the three managed to resurface. Meanwhile Nimarfan, who had been standing guard at the perimerter, rushed to the water's edge upon hearing the creature's roar. Only to come to a sudden stop, dumbfounded by the sight that greeted his eyes.
The center of the pond had become a churn of flailing limbs, strangled shrieks, elven curses and pained grunts, as the two seasoned warriors tried in vain to gain control over the panicked creature.
Though the younger scout's first impulse was to also dive in and lend his aid, he realized that the creature was powerful enough to drag them all to their drowning deaths. And so, he quickly nocked his bow instead, hoping to at least spare the lives of his two elders. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, inspiration struck. Before reason could take over, Nimarfan found his voice rising in elven song. The clear notes verily danced across the water, reaching the three struggling figures at the center of the pond.
The result was instantaneous.
The rousing melody entered the creature's consciousness, effectively cutting the strangling cord noosed by the panicked beast within and causing him to go limp in the arms of his would-be saviors. Glorfindel and Taurnil wasted no time of this sudden reprieve, quickly bearing the creature back to the shallow end of the pond, where they all collapsed against the edge.
For a few moments, all that could be heard were the labored breaths of the elves and the grunting pants of the creature, gradually calming as Nimarfan's voice likewise quieted down to a humming lullaby. The flare of instinct that urged the being to scramble onto land and away from his fright in the water also receded, when he registered that the golden one's arms were still wrapped protectively around his chest.
So long...so very long since he had felt the caring touch of another.
He closed his eyes and leaned back into the embrace, as water drops began to course down from beneath his lids. Drops that unlike the water all around them, were tinged with the salt of overwhelming emotion. Glorfindel tightened his hold, his heart breaking as he looked over at Taurnil, whose light-blue eyes reflected the pity that shone from his own colbat ones. For there was still a large part of this being that was elven, and the two could sense its suffering through the unspoken bond shared by all of their kind.
" Nimarfan, bring the soap and washcloth." Taurnil said softly, pointing towards the large boulder.
The young scout did so, blinking back his own tears as he handed the items over.
" Now go and resume your post at the perimeter."
" Aye, sir."
The elf turned and began to walk away. He had only taken a few steps, when Taurnil's voice again halted him.
" Nimarfan."
" Yes, sir?."
" You did well. Thank you."
The younger elf smiled at hearing those words and his gate seemed just a little bit lighter, as he went to do his superior's bidding. Behind him, he left two battle-hardened warriors, who began to bathe a cursed creature with the same tenderness that a mother would bestow upon a tiny babe...
~~~~~~~~~~
Atop the large boulder, Taurnil finished wringing out his hair with one last -and particularly virulent- Dunadan swear word. He then turned his head to look at Glorfindel, who was still staring down at the tattered remains of his once-pristine washcloth.
" Not one of my most brilliant ideas." The scout said, wryly.
" It could have gone better." Glorfindel agreed, looking back at his old friend and cocking an eyebrow.
The two then gazed towards a grassy spot, where the newly-cleaned creature sat happily munching on a loaf of lembas, while being gently dried by Anor's bright rays.
" But you must admit, my Lord, he does look much-improved as a result of our efforts..." Taurnil's words trailed off as he grinned.
" Aye, mellon nin, that he does."
And just like that, the creature became a ' He' in their elven eyes. Taurnil's grin widened.
" Now, how do we go about clothing him?..."
TBC...
- 8
- 9
- 10
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Returned