The Forgotten Ring
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
51
Views:
5,103
Reviews:
17
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
51
Views:
5,103
Reviews:
17
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
A Rude Awakening
Disclaimer: All familiar characters of this story belong to the awesome world and works of JRR Tolkien, who is an unparalleled genius of this genre. All unfamiliar and original characters, animals and places are of my own invention. I do not derive any monies from this work and created this story solely out of the love and respect that I hold for all of the works related to this canon.
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The Forgotten Ring
by Sienna Dawn
Haldir/OFC
NC17
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Chapter 4 - A Rude Awakening
Year 1211 of the New First Age, somewhere in Middle Earth
He was falling, falling within a bright space, but he could not see what that was. When he tried to move he found he could not do so without experiencing excruciating pain. He strained his mind to recall the last memory and it was not pleasant. Yrch! He remembered the creature as it screeched in his ear; and he remembered the creature's stench as well. Curiously, he could not remember having slain the Orch, for he was sure he must have. Or did he?
Slowly, he was conscious of returning strength and he tried to move his head, and felt less pain. Cautiously, he allowed himself small movements, first a nod, then a stretching of the hand and leg. Each movement brought some discomfort, but the more he moved, the less pain he felt. He realized blood was flowing through his body again and that he was breathing.
He wondered why that realization startled him somewhat. Why should breathing be a strange thing to him? What had happened to him?
He forced his mind back, back to the last memory. It was raining, a dark night and there had been a great battle. He struggled to remember where this battle had been. He fought for the memory, but it would not come. What had happened there to him? Had he died?
And it was this last thought that brought a sudden knowledge that he had died. And if he had died, then where was he now? Was this the Hall of Mandos? Somewhere in his mind he struggled to remember but he could not.
It was then, at that precise moment, that he felt a kick. Hard and deliberate to his lower abdomen. He knew that he should register some pain, but he actually registered mild surprise. Who would be kicking him if he were dead?
Again, a second kick, this time to his head. Curiously, he felt some pain to his left temple. He opened his eyes slowly and saw a vast expanse of deep blue and white. Sky. He remembered this was the sky. Just exactly where was he? Just then he heard a low and guttural voice, spittle and something else being aimed at his direction. He turned his gaze and was surprised to see a short and round lump of something, moving back and forth, in his line of vision. The thing turned to him and screeched:
"Foul simpering ugly elf! When will you get up!"
He studied the creature who had not yet realized it was being observed and when it did, its cries grew even more piteous.
"Ai! Do not look so at me, for the light of your eyes hurts!" It growled and made a move toward him.
Haldir thought that this creature was not friendly at all, and the nagging thought that it might mean him some harm presented itself. He struggled to sit and found that the creature had stopped moving and was now regarding him with a strange look.
"What is it, stupid elf? Don't you know what has happened to you?"
He looked up at the sky, for the present ignoring the creature and its question. He was beginning to suspect the creature was attempting to annoy him deliberately but did not understand why.
He saw an open field; tall trees in the horizon and a dirt road, or what looked to be a well trod foot path. He blinked and wondered how he knew this since he did not have a memory of this place, nor any other place. Was this Valinor? He turned his eyes to the creature and thought he should speak. But as he struggled to speak, he choked on his own breath and broke down in a fit of coughing. The creature laughed.
"Stupid elf. Can't even talk without gagging." It came, looping in an uneven gait, resembling a limp as if one leg were shorter than the other, and stood before him.
"Watch my mouth." and he exaggerated his words, "My......name.....is........Oomberfoot...... Have.....you......one?" Oomberfoot crossed his arms and waited.
He blinked and looked around him again. His name? Did he remember this? No, he didn't remember, but something deep inside him warned him to not let the creature know. He knelt on the ground and slowly stood. He stared at the creature that called itself Oomberfoot.
"Why?" It was all he could manage for now. His throat, he realized, was dry and he knew he needed water to drink.
Oomberfoot shrugged, "Why?" Its eyes narrowed and it squinted at him. He could feel his eyes beginning to burn and slightly turned from the elf's bright gaze. "Well, what do you want me to call you? I supposed Ugly Elf can do?" Oomberfoot waited for the answer.
The elf thought about the question and instinctively knew that this creature, if the possibility presented itself, would not think twice in harming him. He remembered the kicks from before. Suddenly, he turned his intense blue gaze toward the creature and was at once greeted with a howl:
"Your eyes burn! Ai! They burn!" and it cowered, hiding its face in its hands.
He thought for a moment. His eyes burned and the creature had called him an ugly elf. He pushed his memory again. Yes, it was right.
He was an elf. And the creature who called itself Oomberfoot was an Orch. And he knew that was not a good thing.
[To be continued...] Feeback appreciated :)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Forgotten Ring
by Sienna Dawn
Haldir/OFC
NC17
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter 4 - A Rude Awakening
Year 1211 of the New First Age, somewhere in Middle Earth
He was falling, falling within a bright space, but he could not see what that was. When he tried to move he found he could not do so without experiencing excruciating pain. He strained his mind to recall the last memory and it was not pleasant. Yrch! He remembered the creature as it screeched in his ear; and he remembered the creature's stench as well. Curiously, he could not remember having slain the Orch, for he was sure he must have. Or did he?
Slowly, he was conscious of returning strength and he tried to move his head, and felt less pain. Cautiously, he allowed himself small movements, first a nod, then a stretching of the hand and leg. Each movement brought some discomfort, but the more he moved, the less pain he felt. He realized blood was flowing through his body again and that he was breathing.
He wondered why that realization startled him somewhat. Why should breathing be a strange thing to him? What had happened to him?
He forced his mind back, back to the last memory. It was raining, a dark night and there had been a great battle. He struggled to remember where this battle had been. He fought for the memory, but it would not come. What had happened there to him? Had he died?
And it was this last thought that brought a sudden knowledge that he had died. And if he had died, then where was he now? Was this the Hall of Mandos? Somewhere in his mind he struggled to remember but he could not.
It was then, at that precise moment, that he felt a kick. Hard and deliberate to his lower abdomen. He knew that he should register some pain, but he actually registered mild surprise. Who would be kicking him if he were dead?
Again, a second kick, this time to his head. Curiously, he felt some pain to his left temple. He opened his eyes slowly and saw a vast expanse of deep blue and white. Sky. He remembered this was the sky. Just exactly where was he? Just then he heard a low and guttural voice, spittle and something else being aimed at his direction. He turned his gaze and was surprised to see a short and round lump of something, moving back and forth, in his line of vision. The thing turned to him and screeched:
"Foul simpering ugly elf! When will you get up!"
He studied the creature who had not yet realized it was being observed and when it did, its cries grew even more piteous.
"Ai! Do not look so at me, for the light of your eyes hurts!" It growled and made a move toward him.
Haldir thought that this creature was not friendly at all, and the nagging thought that it might mean him some harm presented itself. He struggled to sit and found that the creature had stopped moving and was now regarding him with a strange look.
"What is it, stupid elf? Don't you know what has happened to you?"
He looked up at the sky, for the present ignoring the creature and its question. He was beginning to suspect the creature was attempting to annoy him deliberately but did not understand why.
He saw an open field; tall trees in the horizon and a dirt road, or what looked to be a well trod foot path. He blinked and wondered how he knew this since he did not have a memory of this place, nor any other place. Was this Valinor? He turned his eyes to the creature and thought he should speak. But as he struggled to speak, he choked on his own breath and broke down in a fit of coughing. The creature laughed.
"Stupid elf. Can't even talk without gagging." It came, looping in an uneven gait, resembling a limp as if one leg were shorter than the other, and stood before him.
"Watch my mouth." and he exaggerated his words, "My......name.....is........Oomberfoot...... Have.....you......one?" Oomberfoot crossed his arms and waited.
He blinked and looked around him again. His name? Did he remember this? No, he didn't remember, but something deep inside him warned him to not let the creature know. He knelt on the ground and slowly stood. He stared at the creature that called itself Oomberfoot.
"Why?" It was all he could manage for now. His throat, he realized, was dry and he knew he needed water to drink.
Oomberfoot shrugged, "Why?" Its eyes narrowed and it squinted at him. He could feel his eyes beginning to burn and slightly turned from the elf's bright gaze. "Well, what do you want me to call you? I supposed Ugly Elf can do?" Oomberfoot waited for the answer.
The elf thought about the question and instinctively knew that this creature, if the possibility presented itself, would not think twice in harming him. He remembered the kicks from before. Suddenly, he turned his intense blue gaze toward the creature and was at once greeted with a howl:
"Your eyes burn! Ai! They burn!" and it cowered, hiding its face in its hands.
He thought for a moment. His eyes burned and the creature had called him an ugly elf. He pushed his memory again. Yes, it was right.
He was an elf. And the creature who called itself Oomberfoot was an Orch. And he knew that was not a good thing.
[To be continued...] Feeback appreciated :)
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