Excavating Nargothrond by hennethgalad

Chapter 1

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Excavating Nargothrond. - 

   Frélin led the way down the freshly-carved passage toward the cave with the spring; he was proud beyond his ability to express that he had detected the water source by himself for the first time. The elders would now have to give serious thought to his promotion to guild-master. He almost whistled.

  Behind him, the strange king of the elves reclined almost naked in the arms of his gigantic blond lover. They claimed to be married, 'more married than your mortal heart can concieve...' but Frélin found them altogether peculiar.

  However, the king did know one end of a chisel from the other, and truly, the pillars he had carved into the likeness of his lover were realistic enough to frighten the mead out of an unsuspecting dwarf. The king was speaking

  'Are you going to tunnel into these caverns ?' Frélin and the rest of the dwarves all stopped in their tracks. Frélin turned, and looked up at the old eyes in the lovely young face

  'Caverns, sire ?'

  The king raised an eyebrow 'Do you not feel the great spaces around us ?' he asked. Frélin, eyes wide, looked round at his companions, seeing frowns and pursed lips, and shrugs.

  He looked back at the king 'Do you tell us that you can detect hidden caverns by... by feel ?'

  The king raised his head and spoke softly in his lover's ear. The lover sighed and lowered the king to the ground, reaching behind the kings back. The king brought his hands out and Frélin realized he had been manacled, he was still wearing manacles, on wrists and ankles, and had the calluses of a long-term prisoner. The only thing covering him was a jewelled belt, which barely concealed his private parts.

  Frélin looked curiously at the lover who had done these things to his beloved; the blond giant was watching the king as if he were the only thing in the world, his shining eyes at once possessive and predatory. Frélin found his mind flinching away from the terrible age and deep strangeness of the elves. The demi-goddess in the forest had been eerie enough, followed around by songbirds... But these two lovers; he was getting old, homesick for proper dwarf caverns filled with proper dwarves...

  The king pressed himself against the rock, as though to listen with his whole body. He turned to Frélin

  'Let two of you stand, here and there, and in turn strike this rock with your hammers.'

   Frélin nodded, the king pressed himself back against the rock and was still. The sounds of the hammers was loud in the passageway, the king flinched a little, then gestured at a particular spot, halfway up the wall

   'Yonder lies a large cavern. Over here, there is a strange dullness to the echoes; something dense, heavy, is dampening the sound.'

   Frélin and the dwarves looked hopefully at each other, if this weird king could detect valuable ores just by listening to echoes...

   The king turned to his lover 'Do you not feel it ? Try leaning against the rock.'

   The lover smiled and pressed himself against the opposite wall, the dwarves used their hammers again. But the lover shook his head

  'I am sorry, my love, I do not have your sensitivity. Though there is something strange through there ' he gestured at the rock beside him 'Maybe you'll find a warm lake like the one in Menegroth'

  he smiled warmly at the king, who buried his hands in the thick gold hair and kissed him. The lover swept the king up in his arms and carried him away without a word. The stunned dwarves watched as the giants head came down on the kings throat as if to tear it out, and the king's own head hung back over his lover's arm, the straight fair hair cascading like a waterfall. 

  
   Finally they turned a corner and were gone . Frélin shook himself and waved his hands in the air

   'All right lads, the king wishes us to dig here, so here we shall dig. Any objections ?' The dwarves looked at each other in silence, then one said

    'Is he really... I mean... Do they...'

    Frélin rolled his eyes 'Look, he is not our king! We only have to dig, take our pay and leave. What the customer does in his own time is none of our business. However orcish that giant may seem to act, he comes with personal recommendations from impeccable sources. We just have to accept it as elvish weirdness. I know its not the fact that they're both males that bothers you, but the way they go about. Well, I asked the king about that.' There were gasps 'I did. Do you know what he said ? He said that they liked to hold each other close. Personally, I think its romantic.'

   His face and voice suddenly changed 'Now stop moaning and get digging !' 

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   When the entrances to the two new-found caverns were large enough to admit elves, and the 'dense' ore had been found to be beautiful creamy-white marble, Frélin himself ran to fetch the king.

  The elvish guards were reluctant to let him even approach the door, but his enthusiasm must have crossed the abyss of incomprehension between their races, for all too soon he found his hand raised to knock at the king's door. A moment later the door was wrenched open and Frélin stepped back in fear.

   The giant was there, cold fury in his face, seeming to bristle all over, almost sparking like a lightning-struck tree. But behind him, spreadeagled, bound hand and foot, streched out naked, his head hanging back, was the king, his breathing audible, his arousal obvious, his whole body seemed to quiver.

   Frélin's eyes goggled, he choked out and apology and backed away. From the bed came the words

  'Have you found caverns ?'

   Frélin at once felt on more familiar ground 'Yes lord, precisely where you suggested. They are open now for your inspection. Furthermore, the ore you detected is creamy-white marble, we think enough to build something substantial such as a tower.'

   The giant was closing the door 'We shall soon be with you.' he said.

   'Wait !' cried Frélin, 'There is another thing!'

   The giant paused and looked at the trembling king 'Be swift, my friend, it does not do to keep a king waiting, even one so kind as Finrod.'

    Frélin nodded excitedly 'The dwarves, that is, we, the dwarves, have given king Finrod a title of honour, the name 'Felagund' , which is 'digger of holes'. To you this may seem a trivial title, but to us, caverns are always treasure, even empty. We honour you, King Finrod Felagund !'

   On the bed, Finrod raised his head and looked solemly across his own bare chest at the beaming dwarf

   'I thank you with all my heart, Frélin, I shall treasure the title and use it henceforth. But now you must leave us. He has me at his mercy and I would not like to make him any more impatient than he already is.'

  Frélin blushed, bowed and almost ran back down the passage, trying to ignore the faint sniggers from the guards of Finrod Felagund.

 

 

 

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Chapter End Notes

more Laurëlot.