Filling Santa's shELVES
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
15
Views:
1,787
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
15
Views:
1,787
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
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 2
Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely connected to Tolkien's universe, and will not profit from this writing in any way. Seriously - I won't get a single, solitary nickel. Not even a coupon for fifty cents off a diet Coke. It’s pathetic.
Chapter 2
Eventually, after what seemed an interminable amount of time to the shackled Elves - bouncing about on the truck bed as they were trying to keep themselves from knocking themselves silly against the sides of the truck - they felt the vehicle slow, and finally stop.
The doors at the rear of the truck opened, and the Elves were surprised to see that it was still light outside. They had been certain that most of the day had past, but it looked to be mid-afternoon, judging by the position of the sun.
Once again the gangplank was lowered, as men holding larger versions of the metal object their first captor had aimed at them in the hull of the ship motioned for them to exit the vehicle. Chains clattering, muttering every Elven curse they could think of, the four Elves did as they were bade. They had no choice in the matter.
In front of them was a gray metal building, built long and low. Herded toward it, they were grateful to get inside out of the bitter wind.
"Holy Shee-it! You fellers reek!" an older man yelled, holding his nose and frowning. "Take 'em and hose 'em off, before you take them in to see the Boss. Shee-it, they're making my eyes water!"
Again, Elven curses filled the air, as the Elves were marched down a long corridor into a room that was covered in white, shiny tile.
"How the hell are we supposed to get them clean without taking off the chains? Ain't no way I'm going near them…I seen what they did to Billy the night we took them," one of their captors said to another.
The Elves smiled for the first time since they had been captured. They, too, remembered Haldir beating the man senseless before being overpowered.
"I got an idea…keep them here and I'll be right back," another man said, trotting out of the room.
A few minutes later, he returned, carrying a small, shivering creature in his arms. The Elves' eyes widened when they realized what he held.
It was an Elfling.
The little one couldn't have been more than 20 years or so…Noldor, by the looks of his dark hair and eyes. There was no mistaking the pointed ears, though. Where had he come from?
"Mani lle esselle?" Legolas asked the Elfling, his voice gentle, despite the anger that shook his shoulders. The child looked at him with curiously with round, dark eyes, sucking his thumb, but did not answer.
The man holding the Elfling, took a gun from the holster at his side, and held it to the child's head. "Okay…I can see from your expression that you recognize one of your own…if you make one, single move that even looks threatening, I'll shoot him right in his cute little head. Any questions?"
Elven eyes, lighting with murderous intent glared at him, but the four Elves nodded their heads slowly, indicating that they understood. Legolas was the only one who found his voice. When he spoke, it was low and deadly.
"We will do as you say, but remember this, human…if you harm one hair on that little one's head, I will personally take it out of your hide in large pieces. I know not when, but rest assured it will happen, and you will wish you had never been born."
Although it was said quietly, with little emotion, the man's eyes widened momentarily with fear at the Prince's threat. Recovering quickly, he chose to ignore Legolas, but rather said gruffly to his men, "Take off the shackles." To the Elves, he said, "Strip out of those filthy rags you're wearing. You'll shower, then dress in the clothes we'll give you. We'll be chaining you again afterward. Remember, do not even think about trying anything or the kid gets it."
While the Elfling watched them with wide eyes, the grown Elves stood straight and tall, refusing to show the slightest sign of weakness in front of the small one. They even managed to smile reassuringly at him, though each one was boiling with rage on the inside.
The men darted in and quickly removed the chains from both their wrists and ankles. The Elves stripped quickly, tossing their stained and tattered jerkins and leggings, as well as their boots into a pile in the corner of the room.
One of them men threw a switch on the wall and the Elves were simultaneously assaulted with a shower of frigid water. Stoically, they stood beneath the freezing water, allowing it to sluice away the dirt and grime that encrusted them. One of the men threw Haldir a bar of coarse soap, which he used to wash his hair and body, then passed it on to Rumil. Shortly, all the Elves were back to their clean, slightly glowing forms.
Legolas had not once taken his eyes from the Elfling. "Mani lle esselle?" he asked again, after he had dressed in the button-up overalls and work boots the men had provided. The Elfling only looked at him vacantly, his thumb stuck firmly in his mouth.
Once again the men shackled the Elves, all the while making rude comments about the size of the Elves' endowments. Rumil muttered in Elvish that these humans must all have tiny manhoods, or none at all, since they seemed so preoccupied with the Elvish ones. Orophin snorted in agreement.
"Haldir, how can it be that an Elfling this age does not speak Elvish? I don't think he can understand me," Legolas whispered, still watching the child intently.
"I don't know…what concerns me even more is that he is here at all," Haldir replied, frowning as he watched the man holding the Elfling leave, taking the child with him.
Surrounded by the men with guns, the Elves were forced to walk out of the shower room, back down long corridor and through a pair of large double, swinging doors. Haldir, the first through the doors, stopped dead in his tracks, not even his long lifetime of training and discipline preventing the look of shock on his face or the cry of dismay that ripped from his throat at the sight that greeted him.
Rows of long tables lined the long, wide room. Sitting side by side at the tables, feverishly banging, sawing, gluing and painting on various pieces of wood and metal were scores of Elflings.
Translations: Mani lle esselle - What is your name?
Chapter 2
Eventually, after what seemed an interminable amount of time to the shackled Elves - bouncing about on the truck bed as they were trying to keep themselves from knocking themselves silly against the sides of the truck - they felt the vehicle slow, and finally stop.
The doors at the rear of the truck opened, and the Elves were surprised to see that it was still light outside. They had been certain that most of the day had past, but it looked to be mid-afternoon, judging by the position of the sun.
Once again the gangplank was lowered, as men holding larger versions of the metal object their first captor had aimed at them in the hull of the ship motioned for them to exit the vehicle. Chains clattering, muttering every Elven curse they could think of, the four Elves did as they were bade. They had no choice in the matter.
In front of them was a gray metal building, built long and low. Herded toward it, they were grateful to get inside out of the bitter wind.
"Holy Shee-it! You fellers reek!" an older man yelled, holding his nose and frowning. "Take 'em and hose 'em off, before you take them in to see the Boss. Shee-it, they're making my eyes water!"
Again, Elven curses filled the air, as the Elves were marched down a long corridor into a room that was covered in white, shiny tile.
"How the hell are we supposed to get them clean without taking off the chains? Ain't no way I'm going near them…I seen what they did to Billy the night we took them," one of their captors said to another.
The Elves smiled for the first time since they had been captured. They, too, remembered Haldir beating the man senseless before being overpowered.
"I got an idea…keep them here and I'll be right back," another man said, trotting out of the room.
A few minutes later, he returned, carrying a small, shivering creature in his arms. The Elves' eyes widened when they realized what he held.
It was an Elfling.
The little one couldn't have been more than 20 years or so…Noldor, by the looks of his dark hair and eyes. There was no mistaking the pointed ears, though. Where had he come from?
"Mani lle esselle?" Legolas asked the Elfling, his voice gentle, despite the anger that shook his shoulders. The child looked at him with curiously with round, dark eyes, sucking his thumb, but did not answer.
The man holding the Elfling, took a gun from the holster at his side, and held it to the child's head. "Okay…I can see from your expression that you recognize one of your own…if you make one, single move that even looks threatening, I'll shoot him right in his cute little head. Any questions?"
Elven eyes, lighting with murderous intent glared at him, but the four Elves nodded their heads slowly, indicating that they understood. Legolas was the only one who found his voice. When he spoke, it was low and deadly.
"We will do as you say, but remember this, human…if you harm one hair on that little one's head, I will personally take it out of your hide in large pieces. I know not when, but rest assured it will happen, and you will wish you had never been born."
Although it was said quietly, with little emotion, the man's eyes widened momentarily with fear at the Prince's threat. Recovering quickly, he chose to ignore Legolas, but rather said gruffly to his men, "Take off the shackles." To the Elves, he said, "Strip out of those filthy rags you're wearing. You'll shower, then dress in the clothes we'll give you. We'll be chaining you again afterward. Remember, do not even think about trying anything or the kid gets it."
While the Elfling watched them with wide eyes, the grown Elves stood straight and tall, refusing to show the slightest sign of weakness in front of the small one. They even managed to smile reassuringly at him, though each one was boiling with rage on the inside.
The men darted in and quickly removed the chains from both their wrists and ankles. The Elves stripped quickly, tossing their stained and tattered jerkins and leggings, as well as their boots into a pile in the corner of the room.
One of them men threw a switch on the wall and the Elves were simultaneously assaulted with a shower of frigid water. Stoically, they stood beneath the freezing water, allowing it to sluice away the dirt and grime that encrusted them. One of the men threw Haldir a bar of coarse soap, which he used to wash his hair and body, then passed it on to Rumil. Shortly, all the Elves were back to their clean, slightly glowing forms.
Legolas had not once taken his eyes from the Elfling. "Mani lle esselle?" he asked again, after he had dressed in the button-up overalls and work boots the men had provided. The Elfling only looked at him vacantly, his thumb stuck firmly in his mouth.
Once again the men shackled the Elves, all the while making rude comments about the size of the Elves' endowments. Rumil muttered in Elvish that these humans must all have tiny manhoods, or none at all, since they seemed so preoccupied with the Elvish ones. Orophin snorted in agreement.
"Haldir, how can it be that an Elfling this age does not speak Elvish? I don't think he can understand me," Legolas whispered, still watching the child intently.
"I don't know…what concerns me even more is that he is here at all," Haldir replied, frowning as he watched the man holding the Elfling leave, taking the child with him.
Surrounded by the men with guns, the Elves were forced to walk out of the shower room, back down long corridor and through a pair of large double, swinging doors. Haldir, the first through the doors, stopped dead in his tracks, not even his long lifetime of training and discipline preventing the look of shock on his face or the cry of dismay that ripped from his throat at the sight that greeted him.
Rows of long tables lined the long, wide room. Sitting side by side at the tables, feverishly banging, sawing, gluing and painting on various pieces of wood and metal were scores of Elflings.
Translations: Mani lle esselle - What is your name?