"Lo, what hast thou wrought," a rude voice continued, in somewhat archaic Quenya. I turned my head to voice and saw the prettiest Elf I had ever seen, and I knew Arwen. Tall as I, with raven hair that cascaded down his back like a midnight river.
The eyes were the same I saw in the mirror. His facial features were also alike, like watching some enchanted mirror that made one more fair. But more that, he burned. His very presence scorched, like untamed fire. Destructive, and yet so very pretty.
It was a kind of fire that tempted me to poke my hand into it, even knowing that I would be burned.
He even moved like a bonfire, in quick, and yer graceful, as he counted to barte two of us, "The light of both trees shineth at equal measure for but a fleeting moment, twice each day. Yet thy foolery hath caused me to miss this event. What sayest thou for thyself?"
But before I could answer Archer groggily said, "Where had our bed gone, Rin? And what is with light? It's so pretty."
"We have a company, Fano," I said, reminding him to not talk about anything sensitive.
I was about to speak to that Elf but I turned my gaze on Archer when I had spoken to him and got distracted.
In the intermingling hues of gold and silver radiance, Archer appeared even more splendid. It was as though I were seeing him anew, his hair shimmering and changing in hue beneath the ever-shifting light. Parts of it reminded me of young Mars and time spent in camp, others brought back memories of Shirou, both of my former apprentice and man Archer used to be so long ago. And there were parts under silver light that were almost white, like the hair of the Servant that fought by my side for ten long years. Illuminated by the ethereal light, his skin looked even more attractive. I didn't think that it was possible, because since he had become an Elf, his skill lost all its scars. I didn't even know that I was missing them until shadows gave me gentle reminders.
It was in the nature of light to reveal, but this light revealed beauty rather than flaws.
Light flowed like honey and lingered like a mist. It was almost as if it had substance. Gold and silver intermingled, whirling in a strange pattern, highlighting my lover's best features. His strong arms, as capable as drawing a bow as gently caressing me, his well-shaped legs, and what was between them. I was especially fond of that part.
My eyes drank every detail light revealed, trying to burn it into memory. Then our eyes met, and I noticed that he was doing the same.
We gazed into each other's eyes, captivated by how this beautiful, sacred light reflected in. Color of his eyes. It was like the sun and moon both joined on the steel sky. For a moment or more.
And then we were interrupted again.
"Art thou two even paying heed? Or art thou but itching for another round of pleasure? If so, take it elsewhere. Why ought I to squander my time with thee? The day is already forfeited."
And with those words, the rude Elf began to quickly pack what appeared to be a collection of mirrors, lenses, and gem-cutting tools. He then left grumbling to himself.
For some reason, he seemed a bit familiar to me.
"Is that…'' Archer asked me, looking at a pair of trees that were the origin of glorious radiance.
The light had already begun to grow more golden. White flowers on one of the trees began to dim, and silvery drops that fell from the flowers lessened in number, while golden flowers on the other one shined even brighter.
"Yes," I replied, grabbing his hand.
We stood there for a minute or two just watching the twin waterfalls of liquid light, falling from the canopies of trees, until he began speaking again.
"Weren't they supposed to be…" he sounded distracted. I did not blame him. The view was exquisite, truly any description I could give it would not give it justice. In truth, there were many famous Elven poets, writers, painters, and sculptors that have tried, and failed to do so. How short they came, I did not know till now.
"Yes," I simply replied. Such peaceful moments were rare, but I suppose it was mostly because we had little interest in them. Perhaps that should change a little.
"So we are in the past then?"
Calluses were missing from Archer's hand. I didn't notice that before.
"I think so. Or alternate timeline. But I think we are in the past of our current one."
"Not just mind-blowing sex, but also time-blowing."
I chuckled a little. It was not much of a joke, but I felt better than I did in a long time. More relaxed. There has been one disaster after another for more than a decade now.
"Well as long as I didn't disappoint. I can sense a tear. We have a way back. I have just enough magical energy for it."
"Then let's use it. Before accidentally altering the past."
"Just one thing first," I said and brought forth quicksilver. Six hollow spheres. They unruffled like flowers and then flew to the trees. Three spheres per tree. They flew until they reached waterfalls of liquid light, and then slowly closed, capturing light. Then I recalled them and said, "Souvenirs."
I was not sure if that would work, but I had to try. And if it failed? Well now that path was open I could come back again.
Opening the gate was easier than I expected it to be. Hand in hand we walked back to our bedroom, three Ages in the future.
As we arrived I saw that the light followed through the gate filling the room. It floored the room, a mixture of glorious gold and subtle silver giving new shape to familiar things.
The most obvious was Archer's sword. The play of silver and gold light gave an image of countless wings in motion.
Then the door to the was forcibly opened.
Instantly my muscles tensed, preparing for combat, but I relaxed when I saw who it was. My young apprentices.
They were both dressed in nightgowns, but I noticed that the older boy had outgrown his. It was very tight across his chest and so very short that it was almost indecent. It didn't even reach his mid-tight.
And was then a kitchen knife in the older boy's hand?
Most of the light escaped through the open door, leaving just little remains. I was still perturbed by how the light originating from Two Trees tended to act more like gas or liquid than radiance. I knew that it wasn't impossible, but I never expected to see something like that in person.
After sending the boys back to bed, there was one more thing to be done that night.
"Why did you have to put that here?" Archer was referring to the giant undead spider that had taken residence now in the entrance hall of the Otherworld. It was incapable of spinning webs, after being reanimated, and its poison was replaced by a curse. That had been a tricky piece of work, but without biological processes, the giant spider turned much less formidable so I needed to compensate.
In that twisted space, it looked even more disturbing. Each leg seemed to be of a different length, and its carapace seemed to be the color of boundless ravenousness. What was the color of boundless ravenousness? Well, it was hard to describe but rather ebony-like.
"Truth to be told. It wasn't my idea. It seems that one of the orcs that were reanimated had some tactical skills, so Central Intelligence recommended it. It had become much more responsive after slaving my undead to it."
"I am ever willing to crush your enemies, dread master." As I said, much more responsive. For some strange reason, Archer didn't seem very pleased with this upgrade. Well, I was.
Passing through the door we went to the greenhouse. After a short walk, we arrived at Archer's greatest horticultural success. The only mallorn tree growing outside Lorien. It was still just a tiny sprout, with barely a leaf or two. Right next to it, the prayer wheel I gifted Archer was in full motion.
By my command, two quicksilver spheres floated next to the prayer wheel and opened.
Liquid light began to flow out, but it evaporated into a fine luminous mist before reaching the floor. The prayer wheel sucked in the mist and from it poured the light.
Light and shadow revealed shapes that I could only mathematically describe. Something that should not exist in a sane universe. Yet in this light, they were exquisitely beautiful. And for the light itself, in this space, it was more than gold and silver. There were colors for which I could only be described as allegory: the beauty of healthy growth, the eternity reflected, primordial dawn, the twilight that heralds renewal...
Through the paths that were both visually appealing and vertigo-inducing light spread through the garden, nourishing plants within.
The other four containers I left were within the storage area. As well as the remaining mercury. There were experiments to be done. I need to see if the mercury was changed due to the longer exposure. I also needed to see how long my little contraptions could preserve the light.
But that was work for another day.
The next morning, even with all the extra effort Archer put into it, breakfast was somewhat awkward. The older boy could not look at either of us without blushing, and the younger tried to bury himself in the food. Since it was a minor celebration about the storm finally ending, the food was a bit better than usual.
How he managed to make a pizza with local ingredients was a mystery to me. But I couldn't argue with the results.
The tomato sauce was of perfect consistency, without the need for abundant seasoning, and the cheese merely dissolved upon my tongue. The smoldered meat was the coup de grace, delivering the ultimate flavor profile.
The aromas of the pie were tantalizing, arousing a voracious hunger within me. With each bite, the flavors exploded in my mouth, a harmony of savory and zesty. The cheese, oh the cheese, was utterly divine, imparting a richness that was almost decadent. Each slice was a sublime symphony of taste and texture, a culinary masterpiece that was truly inhumane in its deliciousness.
I used utensils, as it was my preference, slicing the pizza with the utmost precision. While Archer showed boys how they could eat slices by hand.
The sounds of mirth filled the air, as the boys gleefully indulged in their slices. Their fingers were caked in cheese and sauce, but they were unbothered, savoring every bite.
For myself, each small cut was a revelation, a burst of flavors and textures that left me reeling.
As we enjoyed our slices, I couldn't help but notice how Archer's face lit up with pride and happiness.
I thought it best not to mention what happened last night so I spoke of other matters, once the last slice was gone.
"Storm has ended for now. We can get back to work. But since the river is covered in ice you two will have an additional duty. Manning the bellows. It will be hard work, but it is something you should learn for when you run your own forges."
Both boys nodded, although the younger did it with a slice still in his mouth.
Then I spoke to the older boy, "Do you need a new nightshirt? I noticed that you have outgrown the one you have."
His face had gotten even redder. "No," he mumbled, "I like it that way."
I didn't know how to react to that, so I just said, "Just tell me when you need a new one."
Must have been puberty.
Restoring the forge to working condition was much easier than I had thought it would be. The main reason was a bounded field that linked it to Unlimited Blade Works. For one it kept a pleasant temperature during the whole storm, so forge was ready for work almost immediately.
There is one thing I missed with boys in forge. Listening to the Aule channel on the radio while I worked. That Vala always had good suggestions on how to improve whatever I was making at the moment.
I knew boys better by now. I believed that they could keep a secret, and if they could not it was better with this than something more damaging.
I brought the handheld radio out and showed it to the boys.
"What is it?" an older one asked.
"A secret. A means of communication," I replied. "Of instruction."
"How does it work?" the younger one asked.
"You lack the knowledge to understand the answer to that question. Let's just say that there is much more to light than we can see. I will try to teach you some of it if you are interested. Now stay a while and listen."
In truth, we didn't get much work done the first day after the storm, but I managed to get the boys hooked on the radio.
"So are you ready to time-travel again?" I asked Archer a few days later after my reserves of Od recovered.
"About that," he replied, "You haven't been listening to Mandos' channel?"
"No. You know that I am not fond of that one."
"There had been a dire warning about." And then did a little finger quote. "Swimming against currents of time."
"Let it not be said, I can't take a hint. Pity."
"At least now your ancestor can complete his masterpiece in peace."
"Considering the consequences, are you sure that was a positive thing?"
"And here is the reason we are warned about time travel. You are tempted to meddle."
"And you're not?" I asked, surprised. He generally cared about other people more than me.
"No, preventing disasters before they happen is too close to my former job as Counter Guardian."
"If time travel is off limits," I said changing the subject, "Then there was another experiment I need your help with."
"Another sex rite?" He sounded excited. Good.
"It is the same rite. I never did explain to you how the Rings work and what I am trying to do?"
He shrugged and said, "No. Not that I was particularly interested in the subject. I was relieved when you mainly dropped the project of making your own Ring of Power. "
"I just could just explain, or we could roleplay Stern Teacher and Wayward Student."
The small widening of pupils was indication enough of what option he preferred, but he confirmed it verbally, "I am going to set up a classroom. We need desks, chairs, a blackboard, a ruler, a spanking bench…"
When my partner was a master of projection magecraft, setting scenes for role-playing was easy, quick, and cheap. Well if I didn't count expenditure of magical energy, but then Archer had gotten a Magical Core, so it was of no issue. Quite the different matter than when he had been my servant. But then I could have just ordered any props I needed.
"Don't bother with the ruler. I have made a better alternative. Why don't you set up everything while I fetch a few things."
Archer did have a very high pain tolerance. Very useful in battle, but something of a challenge in bed play. It wasn't a problem before when he had been a Servant since there was no point in it. But now that we had begun those options it was hard to push closer to his limits without seriously harming him.
Ancalmiquë was my solution to that problem. The meaning of the name was a searing kiss. Ancalmiquë was an exquisite riding crop that I made by combining Elven lore and magecraft. It was made of matte black leather with a single ruby on the pommel.
Its touch burned like a red hot iron brand, but at the same time, it inflamed the passion. In other words, when I tested it on my hand I spent the next five minutes running in a circle with a hard-on. But then it was not calibrated to me.
And one more thing. I took a diamond I had prepared. For practical demonstration. And sacred oil. Must not forget the oil. Spit just wouldn't do.
By the time I returned Archer had managed to transform the room into a facsimile of a classroom. One desk and chair for the teacher, me, a blackboard behind it, and an opposite desk and chair for the student, him, and a spanking bench right next to it, also for him.
He was dressed in a schoolboy uniform, not a brown drab one from Homurahara, but rather something one could buy from a fetish site. Very short and very tight black cotton shorts, and an almost see-through white shirt. Completed with a skimpy blazer and a cap.
He had also laid down a costume for me to wear. Well, any hot teacher that wore that to school would have had the full attention of students and probably would have gotten arrested.
Two words: skin-tight and revealing suit. No underwear of course. Nice shoes though. And white socks.
I set a bounded field for privacy and then changed into a costume. I had children in the house.
I took a piece of chalk and drew what I needed for the lecture on a blackboard. I made sure to drop that piece of chalk so I would bend over while picking it from the floor, just to set a proper mood.
"Rings of Power. I will not go into the history here because you know it, but I will cover the basic idea of how they work and the consequences of owning them. There are many types of Rings of Power, from lesser to greater, or rather prototypes and finished versions. If we categorize them by making we have those made under Dark Lord's instruction, or by him, or without any input from him. There is also categorization by race of user, but there is little point in it. Rings of Power affect different races differently but they are the same rings. More or less."
I paused for a moment and then looked at him. He was pretending to chew gum. Cute. I ordered, "Hands"
He put his palm upwards and I slashed twice with the riding crop, once for each hand. "Pay attention."
He almost pulled them back a little, and there was a slight tightening of muscles in his face. Ancalmiquë worked just as I intended.
"To explain how rings work we must first examine something else. In Ea, there are three general types of beings, those which are purely spiritual and predate creation of Ea, those which are alive but purely material, and of course, the incarnate which possess spirit and flesh."
"And what does that have to do with Rings of Power," he interrupted me in quite an insolent tone. He was really getting into it.
"Stand up. Bend over your desk," I ordered in a stern tone.
Once he stood up I could see his hard-on. The thin shorts were not designed to hide it. Also, I could tell that he too was without any underwear. That became even more obvious once he bent over the desk
I started on his bare legs and then moved upwards until I reached his cotton-covered bottom. I was tempted to order him to remove his shorts, but not yet. I had more of the lecture to go over first. And not that thin material was much of protection. His behind wiggled deliciously with each strike.
And when I was done and he turned around I could see a wet spot on the front of his shorts.
"If you interrupt me again next time it will be on bare skin. As I was saying, of particular interest for Rings of Power are properties of two races. Incarnates and spirits. Considering that they were forged by the cooperation of Eldar and Maia, it is to be expected. Spirits can interact with the material world if they choose to, but to gain a body of flesh they need to interact deeply with the material world. Mainly through feasting and fornication."
A giggle.
"What did I say? Take off your pants and assume the position."
Soon he was naked from the waist down, bending over, with his hands on his knees.
"Bend your knees a little and spread your legs."
He obeyed, and I could see his hard cock between his legs. I licked my lips. Soon I would taste it. But not yet. Discipline.
One strike right on his asscheeks. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven Eight. Nine. Ten.
I stopped there. I didn't want to overdo it with my new toy.
He bent over to take back his pants and put them on, but I ordered, "Don't. You won't be needing them anymore.
"Sure," he said, smirking, and then his pants disappeared as he canceled the projection.
"Sure, sir," I said and hit him with a riding crop on his right arm.
"You don't have to call me sir," he replied, still smirking.
That deserved something special, so I hit right on his dick. His pupil dilated and he curled on himself.
"As I was saying. As spirit becomes more material, it gains both power and vulnerability. The Rings of Power were a workaround for that. The piece of spirit materialized and alloyed with the matter. For spirit, it would allow power without vulnerability, but for incarnate, it would allow them to materialize part of their soul as spirits do. In that way, the distinction between the two is blurred. But there are problems with this solution besides the obvious."
There I paused. Then I asked, "What is the obvious problem?"
"If it is an object. It can be taken or destroyed, sir" he replied promptly.
"See, you can be respectful when properly motivated. And another problem when one has part of the soul externally manifested, one cannot close mental barriers. And also since morgul is needed to create something so unnatural, it leaves an external soul, and though the main one vulnerable to its influence. It is like an unhealed wound, or perhaps a piercing with rusted metal. That is how the Ruling Ring is possible. That is why I have abandoned the idea of making my own ring But still, I have found a use for secondary techniques. WHAT ARE DOING WITH YOUR HANDS?"
Well, I had a good idea of what he was doing with his hands under the desk.
"Stand up. Shirt off. Hands on your head."
Then I hit him. On both his nipples, on his back, and again on his legs.
I lightly touched his erection with the riding crop. "Is this enough or do you need more corrections?"
"No, sir."
"Remain standing like that while I finish. The amount of materialized soul in the ring is neither stable nor potent enough on its own. That is where additional work comes in. And it is also the reason why the final product is a ring. Well, maybe circlet is possible, but that would kill any Elf who tried to make it. Due to the similarity of properties between magical energies and materialized souls, I theorized that similar techniques could be applied to magical energy as long as it flowed in a circular shape. The Rite of Twinned Tongues does create such a movement of magical energy. The results, especially combined with Shatter, had proven it correct, although I underestimated the output. I need to apply more caution before retrying that experiment. But there is another possibility, combining it with Jewel Magecraft. In other words, capturing a newly created ring of magical energy and storing it into a gem."
This was a bit rushed, but that was a problem mixing teaching and sexual role play. I wanted to move to carnal bits, rather than give proper lectures.
"Now, you will help with a practical demonstration. With this gem. You are already familiar with the rite, but I must remind you that you must orgasm at the same time as me or it is a failing grade."
One of the reasons why most magi disdain spells wrought from shallow Mysteries was because they are very easy to dispel. With a simple flex of my will and Od, I shattered the pattern defining projected clothes on me, letting them disperse in glowing motes.
He was already naked, so I began to anoint him with oil. God, man, beast.
And then he did the same to me.
On the table, we began the wordless rite, his cock in my mouth and mine in his.
As the circuit was established, I began pouring pieces of myself to make it more real.
With all of the foreplay, we couldn't last long, but we managed to delay until my work was complete.
In the throws of orgasm, I could almost see it. Ring made of shining golden light.
Activating a spell embedded in my magic circuits I wretched it and pushed it into an emerald.
After it was done I felt exhausted and somewhat hollow... It was not an unpleasant feeling.
But every drop of Od was taken from magical circuits and crests. And I think I managed to take everything from Archer Magical Core too.
"Something went wrong "
"What do you mean?"
"It is leaking mana. I can smell it."
Well, another failure. At least I had fun trying.
After I recovered enough magical energy I checked on Celebrimbor and Talion. They were gathering an army of orcs to assault another fortress. I tried to talk to them again but they were still not listening. At this rate, I would have to confront them in the flesh.
"Pilot will hang here, under the wing," I said pointing at the proper place on the drawing. Since I was talking in Sindarin the word was actually a sailor, not a pilot, but since gwil could mean both to sail and to fly it was not that inaccurate.
The drawings were made by Véro, the younger of my two apprentices. He had a real talent for it. What they depicted was a model of a hand glider. Between what I remembered, and experiments with kites it should work.
I continued, "The idea is that the pilot uses his body weight to steer. Of course, much of this is unproven, and considering the height, it may prove dangerous."
"To soar as an eagle is well worth a risk. I will do it," Ascarnil replied. His hand was barely healed and he was already eager to break some bones. Still, if I wanted to be a public project, and I did, I couldn't use Archer or me. Too many secrets.
I was certainly not going to use boys to test it, to the older boy's great disappointment.
"Then I name you test pilot for this venture."
"Test pilot," he repeated a word I said. What I said in Sindarin was one compound word, combining Sindarin for the test and the word I already used for the pilot. "I like this word."
"Excuse me, good sirs, I hope I am not interrupting," a young-sounding voice interrupted, speaking in Westron.
There was no knock on the door because Sapthan had let a hobbit in when he had got back. I had sent the older apprentice to gather some rocks from the river bank. My experiment with self-heating rocks had turned surprisingly popular.
"Only literary," Véro tried to mutter, but accidentally said out loud. Since it was his drawings I had him stand by me, while I recruited a guinea pig. Then the younger boy ducked his head and blushed.
"We were done, anyway. Right, Ascarnil?" I said to the blond Elf, then continued to speak to the hobbit, "You are welcome here. Samuel is it? I am sorry if I got it wrong, but I am not the best with names and faces."
The boys seemed to share a look. What? I mixed their names only a few times. Today. Mostly because I just called them apprentices, but still.
Green-eyed Elf chuckled. I still claim that Larmo was better than the one he did have. After all, I named my sword that. And I had gotten his name right just moments before. Well, I hoped I did.
And there I made a little pause, for a hobbit to correct me if I was wrong. I almost began to continue when he did speak.
"Begging your pardon Mr. Rin, it is actually Samwise, but please call me Sam."
Better than usual. I had gotten the right hobbit, and the name was similar enough.
"Then what can I do for you? Have you come to arm yourself? These are dangerous times, so it would be prudent to have a good blade. I don't have anything now suitable for hobbits, but I am sure I could make something that you could use."
"In truth Mr. Rin I have been asking after Elf-magic and then directed me here."
"Then they have not steered you completely wrong. But I must tell you this, the magic here lies in things made."
"Like a magic ring." And yet another piece of evidence that Frodo indeed possessed the Ring. But it gave me an idea.
"That is a particularly infamous example. And dangerous too."
"Dangerous!?"
"Yes. All of them. Even lesser rings have the capacity to bring mortals to their doom. Greater ones could ruin whole kingdoms." That should steer them to some action. If Frodo had the ring. If not there was no harm in warning them, and every word I said was true. "But on a less dire note, I will give a gift that is both magical and practical during winter. One of the ever-warm rocks."
A large bathtub filled with hot water was the perfect place to relax after vigorous exercise. Especially when I shared it with my lover.
"I think it went well today," I said, leaning into Archer. I was referring to the training we had with Glorfindel. The older Elf was quick to resume it, once the storm ended, although we were no longer training alone. There were quite a lot of people training now. A lot of Elves, but the weather was still too cold for others to train.
After the storm ended, it was still quite cold, but no longer it did chill the spirit. Not that we felt that much here in Imladris. There were protections against morgul here.
"Quite well," Archer replied while rubbing shampoo into my hair. Yes, Elves invented shampoo a long time ago. Not surprising since hair for Elves was what a pair of breasts or chiseled abs were for Men. "Although I could smell that you have been using magic, and saw that really helped. It was almost as if you had an Eye of the Mind. About F rank."
"Well, I figured it out. As long as all timelines remain similar enough and converge in the end, energy requirements are not quite as steep. Before I had been trying to run before learning to walk. But you are not the only one to notice something. I have fought alongside you often enough. I recognize when you change your style. Did you manage to copy skills from wielders without manifesting a weapon?"
"Not quite. But a good guess. I call it Trace: Overlay. I was inspired by our swords actually. Rather than alter the sword, I just add a second imaginary sword to it."
"So then the sword would have two histories. Like Turánn. Your Reality Marble seemed to merge records of different timelines."
"I didn't think of that. I should look into it.
"Well trace a copy of it and join me in the forge. There is work to be done. We are going to need a lot of weapons for what is to come."
"And what about barrowwights?"
"Hobbits are here. They had become strategically much less relevant. Have you tried to layer several different swords into one? Or add other properties?"
"First I have tried and failed. But I think that is just a matter of practice. Lots of practice. And second, that would be the next step."
"Then I should make you another sword. Your favorite swords, and thus the ones you are most proficient in, are paired. I think that is enough time. Can you rinse my hair now?"
It was near the Turuhalmë when the enemy finally deigned to send some invading force.
Under the command of Witch King, they gathered in secret, but it was all in vain because we got access to Arda's premium voyeur.
Visions, dreams, and angelic messengers were old ways of communing with the divine, I, and Archer too, had a more modern method. Simple radio receivers attuned to divinity.
From Manwe's channel Archer and I learned of two armies. One that gathered at Fornost, wolves, and wargs led by werewolves, and marched southward to the Bree on the Greenway and other a company of Orc, coming from Gram, then following river Mitheithel to the Great East Road, and using the same road to march towards Amon Sul.
Archer insisted, and I agreed that the canine army was one we should intercept. I was tempted to test our defenses on both, but as Archer pointed out, leaving them to march past Bree could result in casualties. And there was a slim chance that Amon Sul was not the intended target.
I had partnered with an Archer class Servant for ten Holy Grail Wars. Perhaps I should use his name instead of class sometimes, but he didn't like Emiya and really hated being called Shiro. Maybe Mars of Fano? But I had used Archer for much longer.
So, as I was saying, I had been partnered with Servant with the best ranged capability. Setting killing fields was second nature by now. Of course, there was a problem with getting enemies into them. Few participants in those wars could resist a helpless-looking Master. In other words, I was quite used to being the bait.
That was the reason I was standing alone in the middle of the road waiting for an army to arrive. I should have brought a book. Or a chair.
I had sacrificed two jewels for this operation. A sapphire to call wind which would spread my scent far and wide, and garnet to make my scent more desirable. I never thought I would use a seduction spell to make myself smell more delicious, but lust and hunger were closer than many would acknowledge.
The results were better than I expected.
The first indication of the enemy's approach came in the form of chilling howls, a terrifying cacophony that echoed across the horizon. As the sound grew closer, a horde of wolves appeared on the horizon, moving like a wave towards us. Among them were some significantly larger creatures, almost the size of ponies. These beasts led the charge, running in a seemingly haphazard column of about ten. I could only assume that they were either wargs or werewolves.
I could see the first of the arrows flowing overhead. Archer was targeting the wolves in the back. It was better than that. We didn't want them to scatter. The purpose here was extermination. It was unfortunate, but as long as the enemy could use them, we could show little mercy.
By the number of arrows, it was as if I had hidden the whole battalion of archers, and not just one on a nearby, about a kilometer away, hill.
Now that I could see their numbers I wondered how did the enemy manage to feed them all. It wasn't as if wolves could farm. Hunting could get only so much food.
They were yet to notice that Archer was killing as run towards me. Fast. Very fast. Both the wolves running, and the wolves dying.
A race whether they would reach me before they were all killed by arrows.
I was not worried. I trusted Archer.
And if the worst happened I had a few more gems for an emergency.
I didn't like dogs. I didn't dislike them. I was mostly ambivalent. And these were wolves. Still, there was something sad, as they died one by one, without any of the others acknowledging it. So focused on me. That attraction spell worked beyond my wildest imagination.
Black arrows fell like rain. I could not see it, since the large ones blocked my view. But I could hear the death rattle. And yet it was still ignored by other wolves.
As they got closer I could see more details. Their large mouths filled with sharp fangs. Clawed feet, powerful muscles under the matted fur. Eyes filled with a burning hatred.
Yet none of that mattered, for Archer was near with his bow.
The last of them died, his throat pierced by an arrow a few meters from me. In the end, I didn't even have to do anything besides stand there and look delicious.
It was unpleasant work but it needed to be done. At least I shall put their corpses to good use.
I missed the second army arrival at Amon Sul. I was stuck at the celebration. Archer was right, even with my antisocial tendencies it would be too suspicious to miss it.
I left the Central Intelligence in charge. There was no other option. And since bringing a sword to a Tale-fire was gauche at best, I had to have no contact with it at the critical time.
The gathering of logs and sports went fine in the morning. Archer had won an archery contest to the surprise of all but me since Fano had not shown skill before. There were also races, both on foot and with sleds.
The afternoon was filled with drinks and songs. The younger hobbits made a bit of fool of themself, but no one really minded. I dragged Sam to see Elf-minstrels. Since he was interested in Elf-magic that was a very visually impressive one. Those who were truly gifted could bring the image of what they sang to life. Pretty to look at, but I would still rather have a TV.
And then came the Fire Night, a time to tell tales about those who were no longer with us. Among Elves that mainly meant those who died by violence. Sailing to Valinor didn't quite count. I was not quite sure why, where one left these shores in flesh in naked spirit, one still left. But customs were often like that.
I was relieved when it finally ended.
"So, they are just camping in the ruins?" I asked my sword. Actually, the question was for Central Intelligence. It just spoke through my sword.
"Yes, master. There had been some probes into caves, and they did try to smoke us out. But they are mostly occupying the ruins. They had managed to find most of the normal entrances to caves and were guarding them."
Ever since I linked undead orc to Central Intelligence it referred to me as master rather than a primary user.
"That seems…" I began speaking and paused, "Pointless."
Advantages of undead that needed neither air nor supplies. And blockading was utterly useless with our access to the Otherworld and its gates. There were several doors in the vicinity that were marked with either my or Archer's key. It was just a basic precaution.
"They don't know that. We should try to keep it that way." Archer added.
I nodded, that seemed reasonable. "Should we just wait? We have a fortified position."
"They are on the main road to Lindon, and too close to Bree. It is a strategically important position and if we don't deal with those orcs someone else will. That would mean even more trouble."
I bowed to his greater experience. He was one who had traveled to war-torn countries, so he had much more experience in wars that contained actual armies. And there was one other thing.
"I do want to get my favorite scrying spot back. I would hate to miss another episode of Celebrimbor and Talion's road trip to damnation."
"Still refusing to talk to you?"
"Mostly Celebrimbor, but Talion is following his lead in this instance. Perhaps I should give up. They certainly showed that they don't want my help."
"Are you sure they need saving?"
Sometimes I forget. Archer never played that game. I was not sure if it existed in that world. But there was a simple explanation.
"They will either succeed or fail. Either way, it doesn't end well for them."
If the unlikely pair failed, that meant that Dark Lord won. He was unlikely to be magnanimous in victory. But greater peril lay in success. If they managed to overthrow the Master of Mordor, and even worse enslave him, for he was beyond death, they were likely to replace him.
As it was written in the Bible, for what was worth of the world if had cost one soul.
"Then you should help."
I envied his conviction. Unsure if that would be the right action, I changed the subject, or rather returned to a more relevant topic "It would be easier if we could fight them in tunnels. I could use their idea much more effectively. One emerald and I would have something much deadlier than smoke. Any idea how to motivate them to commit all-out assault?"
"I could snipe them. I have a door marked at a perfect sniping position in nearby hills."
I sometimes forget how ridiculous Archer's range was with bow and arrow. Although it would still be ridiculous even with modern sniper rifles.
"Well if they run we can hunt them with undead wolves." Pity the werewolves left no corpses, but their half-breed offspring and normal wolves did so I had added some cavalry to my forces.
"Then let's go for a romantic hunt together tomorrow."
"Just so you know I don't know how to cook an orc, " he joked.
"I am sure that you would manage but I have better use for orc corpses. We could always hunt something edible after."
The next day we did as we planned. Officially we went on a hunt, but after a few hours out we used the Otherworld to go to our next destination. Archer to his sniping outpost in nearby mountains, and me in caves under Amon Sul. Close enough to the entrance that I could fill the caves from here to the entrance with poison, yet far enough that could bring enough troops for it to be worth it.
The difference between elven telepathy and one granted by a karmic bond between Master and Servant was that the first one was affected by both distance and obstacles. That meant that I needed something to coordinate the attack with Archer.
"Attack has begun, master," the orc's corpse next to me spoke. I had one assigned to Archer so we could communicate since they all were connected to Central Intelligence.
"Good."
The only thing left for me was to wait. The enemy could advance, and I was waiting for it. They could run, which was a less optimal option. Or they could stay and be killed by Archer. Or perhaps they could try to find Archer. Or try to find cover, besides these caves, there was not much of it.
"The enemy had begun a new assault on the caves, master"
"How are our troops holding?"
"We are being pushed back, as planned, but there is no chance of breach for now."
"Inform me if that changes, or they reach the third chokepoint."
"Yes, master."
While I was waiting I prepared for my part. I took out an emerald and the diamond I had used in that failed experiment. It had been leaking magical energy for quite some time, so I didn't expect much of it, but any little bit helped.
"We have a breach, master"
"The orc captain and his bodyguards had taken the lead, master. They are significantly more skilled."
"Be prepared to counterattack on my signal."
"Reserves are ready, master."
I sacrificed the emerald to conjure the cloud of poisonous gas. But when it came time to sacrifice that diamond, I hesitated a little. I didn't know why. I felt a strange connection to it. It seemed so precious to me. Such a strange thing to think about a gem. I have lost count of how many jewels I had spent time carving, polishing, and filling with magical energy only to sacrifice when I choose...
I steeled my heart. I would not be bound so easily by an object and crushed that emerald.
Glistening dust formed a ring for a moment and floated into the killing cloud. It grew fast and moved as I directed it.
Then the pain hit. It was a piercing chest pain. If I was not an Elf I would think that I was having a heart attack.
I managed to order through the pain, "Begin the counterattack."
I was mostly recovered when Central Intelligence reported through the orc corpse by my side, "Counter attack successful. No surviving enemy combatants detected, master."
"So the combat went well? How are our casualties?"
"There was no combat. All of the enemies had been slain by you, master."
That was surprising. And seemed a bit like overkill.
I was mostly received by the time I rejoined Archer. We returned to the forest near Imladris. After all, we still had a hunt to complete.
"If you had planned to cover the whole hill in poison, there was no need for any other plans. It may be overkill, and perhaps you should have saved that spell for later."
"You know that experiment I thought was a failure. It seems that I was wrong."
"Which one?"
"Ring Lore and Jewel Magecraft. The jewel was not leaking, it was generating magical energy."
"Are we making more of them? I was quite willing to help."
"Perhaps. But not as disposable mystic codes. There are side effects when the gem was destroyed."
"Are you all right?"
"I will be, in time. I hope."
That was all I would say about it. No matter how much he prompted.
On the other hand, rabbits were delicious. And their white winter fur was quite pretty.
During the rest of the winter, we had mostly completed the hand glider prototype. One that seemed to work. At least on short glides without a pilot. Unfortunately, by the time, it was ready our test pilot had wandered off.
Meanwhile, the focus on northern enemy forces was holding the High Pass. They won because of the sorcerous weather. And were held by a number of orcs and the fell might of Ringwraiths.
And there was the war on the other side of the mountains between Orcs from Gundabad and Beornings.
Witch-king continued to build an army in orcish mountain strongholds, but truth be told their population was yet to recover from the War of Dwarves and Orcs.
On the other hand in the south orcs from Moria spilled into Eriador and Dunland, blocking the way to Gap of Rohan. It was not a perfect blockade, there was too much ground to cover. But still, it was another way to isolate us.
Radio brought news of a push from Dol Guldur. The enemy forces attempted to link with the ones holding the High Pass. Elven forces from Lorien had managed to prevent that for now.
With spring came better weather and pale and poisonous flowers bloomed in the ruins and all over the hill of Amons Sul. In the caves under that were green glowing lichen and colorful mushrooms... Also quite deadly. A side effect of that spell perhaps?
Visitors also came to Imladris.
I heard about Haldir from the boys. He brought good news to them. No one of their kin was a casualty of skirmishes between Rangers and Orcs.
Then Gildor wandered in, bringing word from Lindon, a company of dwarves from the Blue Mountains, and our missing test pilot. Unfortunately, the reckless scout had managed to get himself wounded once again, so the test flight of a now-completed hand glider was further delayed.
Last, unexpectedly from the south, through the path we thought closed to us by the roving bands of orcs, Arwen had returned to Imladris. But she didn't come alone. In our time of need, she had brought reinforcements. Elves from Lorien, a human horseman from Rohan, and a Wizard.
Unfortunately, it was the wrong Wizard. Curumo had come to Imladris.