The End (SYOC)
Prologue: Two Elves, a Dwarf…and a Brothel?
The White City had begun to play host to a variety of new things: more tournaments, more schools, and as of very late: more brothels. That's what came with the cost of an ever-growing city. Most were your typical pleasure houses, with women scantily clad servicing the gallant Gondorian soldiers. However, there was a particularly…different one, at the edge of the city, if you were in the mood for something different.
It was called One for All's Ale House, which wasn't a very clever name to hide the name of a whorehouse. The atmosphere was jovial, the women and men were friendly, and drinks were to be had all around. Smiles lit up the faces of the Gondorians and the foreigners who were inside. On one day, it was the site of something very different.
It was just a turn past noon in the White City, and business was booming as it did every afternoon. Soldiers getting off the night shift tended to flock towards the brothels before a break. Today was no different. Whoops of laughter echoed through the tavern, soldiers shedding their coats at the door and loosening up their trousers as they took seats in chairs. Unlike many other brothels in the White City however, a few women took seats alongside them, wealthy women from the center of town. For the Ale House could serve every delicacy.
The lights were dimming when the door crashed open. Some heads turned, while others remained focused on the people servicing them. At the door were three peculiar individuals.
The first to come in was an Elf, that was for sure. Long auburn hair adorned his head, falling in effortless sheets down his back and chest. He was sinewy and slim, but powerful muscle could be seen in his arms and neck. His undershirt was a deep crimson, while his flowing robes were a pearly white. Crystal blue eyes pierced the crowd assembled at the pleasure house.
The second was also an Elf, though he appeared to be from a different place than the first Elf. Paler and shorter, this one seemed younger. Green eyes like emeralds sparkled, a bow slung over his shoulder. Unlike the first elf, this one adorned green armor like those of the Woodland Realm.
Perhaps most surprisingly was their third companion, a short and stout Dwarf, whose scowl seemed to turn most away from him. He was dressed in clothing far too warm for the weather of the area. A hefty axe was slung over his back.
"Alassien," The dwarf snarled at the crimson-garbed elf. "What are we doing here? This-this is unnatural. This is a Man's whorehouse."
"I am inclined to agree with Khumen here," The second elf replied, glancing at the seemingly most senior among them. "What are we doing here?"
"I didn't come halfway across the world to be judged by an onna," Alassien said magnanimously, stepping into the house. "This is where we need to be at this present time. Morgoth's presence looms large over this place."
The human crowds parted for Alassien, Khumen, and Turin. They approached the barkeep, who also doubled as the owner of the whore house.
"Get me a good one," Khumen grinned, his eyes glinting.
Alassien simply sighed and leaned up against the oaken bar. "I'm looking for a man. Remme, they said his name was. They said he works here."
"Ah!" The jovial man broke out into a beaming smile. "Our star! Yes, yes, he's up in his room, preparing for the next one. You're lucky," His voice dropped low. "He doesn't seem to mind the presence of men."
Turin, the golden-haired elf, had the modesty to blush. Khumen was aghast, and Alassien just nodded. "What door?" Alassien asked.
"Payment first," The barkeep replied. "He's running a bit of a high rate, but you'll be pleased, I promise you that."
Alassien glanced back at Khumen, who was the wealthiest in terms of Man's currency of the group. The dwarf was disgruntled. "I am not paying for a male whore," Khumen snarled. "I'd rather pay for a nice, homely woman. Dwarvish, too.'
The look from the eldest Elf seemed to silence anymore discontent among the group, and the Dwarf pressed coins onto the table. The manager grabbed what he needed and pushed the rest back at them. "Up the stairs, first door on the right. Have fun."
The man chortled as the group made their way up the stairs, each one creaking as they went. It had begun to rain outside, the windows streaking with the afternoon mist. There was a note tacked to the door the man had told them to go to: Remme. Alassien tapped on the door three times.
"Come in!" A voice returned. Alassien noticed that it was honey-like, dripping with the kind of deep, yet light voice that Gondor women seemed to enjoy.
Alassien pushed open the door, and the three stumbled into the chamber. A feather bed was set up in the room, blankets thrown about. Rugs lined the floor of all different colors; the armoire was open, and shirts were spilling out of the bottom of it. The smell in the room was sickening, the heavy smell of love in the air. Khumen coughed, tears springing to his eyes at the pungent smell. The barkeep hadn't been wrong at all, this Remme had plenty of visitors.
"Three?" A voice came from to the left of them. Alassien's focus snapped to attention, seeing a man resting against the doorframe to the bathroom. The man, presumably Remme, was shirtless, muscles adorning his chest and abs, with trails of brown hair leading to what laid beneath the trousers he was wearing. In another world, had he been shorter, he could've passed for a dwarf. He had dark, curly brown hair, which was worn rather short and he had the beginnings of a beard. His eyes were a golden-brown, and his smirk was nearly permanent on his face. Remme exhibited a large scar on his lower abdomen, which Alassien's eyes were drawn towards. "I don't know if I've ever had three Men, but two Elves and a Dwarf? That should be exciting." The smirk only widened as Khumen sputtered at the mention of himself.
"We're here on business," Turin began, but Remme just began to saunter towards them.
"Yeah I'm sure," Remme clucked to the young elf, his hand reaching down. Turin gasped as his hand began to work. Turin slapped it away within a few seconds.
"Ow," Remme replied, a look of hurt on his face as he held his hand to his bare chest. "Never met an Elf, to be quite honest."
"We won't be getting that familiar," Turin tried to stay dignified, straightening his back. Khumen had retreated behind the young elf, not wanting to be fondled in the same way.
Remme took a step closer to Alassien, his eyes brightening as he took in the stoic elf. "This will be fun." His hands slid down Alassien's sides, finding the belt that held his robes together. "He wants to play," Remme noticed, slowly rubbing his chest up against Alassien's.
To Turin and Khumen's marvel, Alassien didn't shrink away or react at all, he simply touched the Man's scar. "We're here to talk about this." His voice was measured, calm.
"Oh," Remme took a step back, looking at the three of them. "This – this isn't a job, is it?"
"No, god damn it!" Khumen muttered angrily, pointing his stubby finger at the man. "Don't go thumbing through our trousers!"
Remme simply laughed, throwing his head back and letting out pure, warm sounds. "Go downstairs, sit at one of the booths. I'll be down in a few moments, I'll get dressed and we can start this talk, whatever you want to do."
Turin and Khumen immediately made for the door, but Alassien made a gesture with his head for them to go ahead, that he'd stay. When Remme had disappeared into the bathroom to change. "He's a flight risk," Alassien told them.
Turin and Khumen made their way back down the stairs, the smell beginning to lift. They spotted an empty booth in the back of the room. Khumen glanced at Turin, then at the booth. "I don't want to sit next to the whore," Khumen grumbled.
Turin was still pink from his interaction with the man. "Me neither," He mumbled, buckling his belt that had been loosened.
Disgruntled, the two of them settled into one side of the booth together. A woman came over to get their orders, and Turin simply ordered them four ales. When Khumen attempted to butt in with something else, Turin gripped his arm painfully until he stopped speaking. "Not everyone here is a tavern wench," He said fiercely.
Alassien and Remme descended the stairs together. Remme had gotten into a thick, woolen sweatshirt that seemed to cover almost everything. When he turned towards their booth, Turin realized it had been a gift. The wool was barely woven together, large patches of his skin still showing.
Alassien and Remme settled into the other side of the booth. "Who do I have to thank for the ale?" Remme grinned at the other two.
Turin shyly raised a hand, Khumen having refused to pay for the man's drink. Remme gave him a thankful smile. "What is it you want to know?" Remme asked, folding his arms and setting them on the table.
"We're pursuing a man, and we heard you ran into him outside of Dale," Khumen set a map on the table. "A shapeshifter. One who can change his face into whatever he wants, so he's nearly impossible to catch."
"Ah," Remme said, taking a large swig of the ale. He set it down with a thud. "You want to know how I got this?" He raised his shirt, showing the scar that they'd seen earlier.
Turin's brow furrowed. "That-that's not what we're talking about."
"Yes, it is," Remme replied warmly. It didn't seem as though he took offense to much of anything. "This man you're speaking of, that's who did this. He was a client of mine in Dale, I had a fun enough time, but he seemed off to me. Rarely spoke, seemed as though he wasn't enjoying anything. I pulled all the stops, too!" He said indignantly. "Anyway, I was packing to come here, after all. I was set to take off the next day. I was venturing out, when I felt a presence near me. I turned, and it was a different man."
"He changed?" Alassien asked for clarification.
"He did," Remme confirmed. "Before, he'd been a blonde hunk of a man, now he was a skinny black-haired boy wearing all black clothing."
"How do you know it was him?" Khumen demanded, his hand pounding on the tabletop.
"The eyes," Remme replied softly. "They were the exact same. In this line of business, you forget a lot of things about your clients. The eyes, you never forget. His were the only ones I'd ever seen that were joyless while I did my job. He lunged at me with a knife, stuck me right here," His hand traced the scar that he had on his abdomen.
"What happened next?" Alassien prompted.
"Well, I think he must've heard something near us," Remme told them, running a hand through his curly locks, as if trying to remember. "Because he ran. Must've thought I'd bleed out. Nearly did too. A few guards from Dale had followed me out of the city, and they carried me back."
"Why'd they follow you?" Turin asked curiously, having a moustache from the ale he'd drank. So far, he was the only one finished with his drink.
Remme blushed and fiddled with a napkin. "I suppose I might've taken something that I wasn't supposed to from one of the higher-born ladies there. Not important, though. When I'd healed from there, I set out here to get here in time for my gig with this lovely place."
Alassien nodded, his eyes glancing around the room as though he was trying to fit in a piece of a puzzle. "Why would Melkor's lieutenant be following around a male hooker from…" He turned to Remme. "Where are you from, actually?"
"Dunno," Remme replied. "And Melkor? Isn't that a myth?"
"God, he's stupid," Khumen grumbled. "He's not a myth, kid. And for some reason, one of his allies was after you. Any reason why, we should know?"
Remme at first shook his head, but then he blinked a few times, rubbing his hands on the counter. "Well…"
"Spit it out," Khumen snarled. "We don't have all day, he could've followed you here."
"There was the thing I'd stolen from this lady in Dale," Remme said, shifting on his feet nervously. "It was a huge gem, it sparkled white, blue, orange, all of these different colors. They seemed to be telling stories in them, and that was only in the hour I was in possession of it."
Alassien's slim hand caught the man's chin in a vice-like grip. "You were in the possession of a Silmaril?"
"Silmaril?" Turin gasped. "Those haven't been seen in ages, how do you know that's it?"
"I do," Alassien replied, gripping Remme's face tightly. "What happened to it?"
Remme gasped in pain, the Elf's strength too much for the smaller man. "I-the men from Dale took it. Returned it to the woman."
Alassien let go of him at last, and the hooker nursed his aching jaw.
"Who is this woman?" Alassien asked him, facing Remme. "Is she from Dale as well?"
"No, I don't think so," Remme said, hurt. "She was just in town. I assume this…whatever you called it, is in her possession again."
The door opened to the brothel, and in stepped possibly the most gorgeous man Remme had ever seen. Toned muscles, a shapely behind, and…familiar eyes. The lifeless dark grey ones he'd seen in Dale. "Al-Alassien?" Remme said fearfully, gripping the Elf's hand. "It's him."
Alassien had already seen the door and had vaulted up into the air. A spray of arrows rang out, hitting some of the soldiers sitting in the bar. Chaos reigned in the seconds that followed, the women screaming and running for the stairs that led up into the hookers' private chambers. Some soldiers had reached for weapons, while others were buttoning up their pants, but it was no use. Most already had arrows buried in the backs of their skulls, their heads face-down on the tables they had been eating from before.
Turin shoved Remme down underneath the booth, knowing the man would be no use in a fight. Alassien had drawn his sword, a beautiful, nearly pearly white blade that cut through the air with precision. Khumen yelled in anger and charged after the Elf.
Turin had drawn his bow and was beginning to fire at the man. He seemed to have superhuman agility, leaping onto the walls and running across bannisters and tabletops. The remainder of the soldiers had raced into the streets, warning people passing by to get out of the area.
Alassien jumped onto a table where the man was, surprising him. His sword gleamed as a crack of lightning struck outside. The Elf attempted to stab Melkor's servant, but it was parried by a sharp jab from the shapeshifter's own weapon. Khumen was struggling to get onto a table to try and help them and had resorted to chucking his axe at the man. The golden-haired beauty ducked, and it buried into a container of ale on the wall. Liquid burst out of it, coating the dwarf as well as Turin, who had been standing near him.
Alassien let out a cry as the shapeshifter grabbed a hold of his throat, his powerful leg kicking the elf's sword out of his grip. It clinked as it slid out of the way, useless to him now. The auburn-haired elf reached for a knife hidden on his person, but the shapeshifter caught his hand and twisted, a sickening snapping sound ringing out in the room. Alassien's shriek could be heard for blocks, a wicked smile appearing on his aggressor.
"You'll never win," The man's demonic voice muttered.
"Oh yeah?" A voice piped up from behind him. It took him a second too long to react as Remme shoved Alassien's sword into his gut. The shapeshifter instantly crumpled, and Alassien used it to his advantage, wrenching the sword out of Remme's hands and slicing the shapeshifter's head off.
Broken glass, bodies, and ale had covered the tavern. Turin and Khumen, drenched in ale, wandered towards the other two. "Maybe we should bring the whore with us," Khumen mused.
"We need to." Alassien nursed his injured arm, letting it hang as he gripped Remme's shirt with his other hand. "You're coming with us."
A/N: I hope you liked the beginning of The End :D I had an amazingly fun time writing this beginning, so I hope you all liked it too and want to join in on the fun! There's a surprising dearth of LotR SYOCs on the site, and I think this will be a wonderful addition to the tally. I love all my babies, Alassien, Remme, Turin, and Khumen. They are all so alive in my heart, I can't wait to see what's in store for everyone. So please, submit and enjoy the story. Importantly, review! I love hearing feedback on what you think as well!
FORM (Also on Profile)
Name:
Nickname (if any):
Species:
Gender:
Age (Elf can be unknown):
Occupation (if any specific):
Sexuality:
Current Location:
Current Residence (can be same):
Personality:
Backstory:
Hair Color:
Hair Style:
Eye Color:
Height:
Clothing (Formal, Adventure, and Sleepwear):
Other Appearance things that are pertinent:
Family:
Romance?:
Weapons:
Armor:
Right or Left Handed:
Strengths (4):
Weaknesses (4):
Opinions of…
Elves:
Dwarves:
Men:
Alassien (assume after they've met for all 4):
Remme:
Turin:
Khumen
RATINGS (out of 10)
Strength: /10
Stamina: /10
Flexibility: /10
Speed: /10
Agility: /10
Strategy: /10
Intelligence: /10
Wisdom: /10
Why are they involved in the plot (job/relation to mains/romance?)?:
How do I get them involved with the other 4 (ideas):
Other:
A/N: I know the form looks like a bear, but really most of it is 1 or 2 word answers. I would love to get a bunch of submissions going. If you'd like to know more about the plot, you can PM me that as well, but I didn't want to post it here to ruin the surprise if people want it to get surprised.