In the Tent
By kasura
Darkness unfurled her wings, descending down to the ravaged lands to gift the brave warriors their much-craved respites. In the black silence, occasionally broken by the crackling of dying campfires, two elves crept toward the center tent in the camp – the one that is ostentatiously decorated with abundant sapphire studded gold ribbons.
The raven haired one shielded his eyes to drive the pain of vulgar décor away. Meanwhile, the red haired elf next to him pushed him head long toward the tent, whispered of an oath sworn under the glittering stars, witnessed by the eight swords that were stained by the reddish torchlight on their naked blades.
They raised the flap, and entered the tent. The red haired elf drew a deep breath as his eyes rested on a black lacquered box lying on the center table. Their lifelong ambition…..Atar, may you rest your fea in Mandos. His trembling left hand reached to touch the box, to open and hold its treasure in his palm again, as if the jewels never left his youthful hands, frozen in his memory, of the day his Atar bid him to caress them.
The raven haired elf fixated his eyes on the black box, his mind as enthralled as his companion. As he moved closer to his heart's desire, his delicate ears twitched, picking up soft moans and the rustling of silk clothes. He scouted the tent for the source, finally surmised the sounds were emitted from the back of an exquisitely carved ivory screen inlaid with jewels. His eyebrows rose at this offense. Raised in the house of the highest aesthetics, it's no shock both he and his companion overlooked this gaudy object from their eyesight, hence unaware that the tent's already occupied.
He signaled his red haired companion. Together they crept toward the screen, hands gripping the sword handles tightly. They knocked the screen down swiftly, swords posed, and were stunned by what they saw----------------------------a pair of disheveled Maia and ex Maia kissing and groping each fiercely.
The red haired elf's face went crestfallen. "Sauron, how could you betray our love?"
"Ma…Maitimo, I'm so sorry…it's my fault…please don't hurt me." Sauron shrieked, his hands frantically searching for a sheet to cover him properly and found Eonwe's private parts instead. Eonwe yelped. Sauron blushed furiously.
Maitimo cried, fresh tears fallen down freely. " We had to part in sorrow because you said evil and good can never be together. False lover, you used me, and threw me out like the dirty bandages when you're done." He wept more.
Eonwe stepped in to assuage the situation. He caressed Sauron's trembling shoulder, and said to Maitimo. "Sauron-poo and I knew each other since the beginning. We sang together in the Summer Quartet. I remember he used to tickle me when Melian was arguing with Olorin. And I dipped his prized golden braids in ink. We never realized the attraction. The fool I am, to let him slipped away to be caught in Morgoth's web."
Matimo wept more after listening to Eonwe. "My lord Eonwe, it's true you and Sauron consorted amiably in the beginning of times and harbored seeds of love that lay dormant. But Sauron or Aulendil deceived me under the pretense of true love. I am wronged, lord. My poor wretched heart is broken. Oh my heart, my heart"
Upon hearing Maitimo's broken voices, Sauron tried to comfort Maitimo, for his still harbors some shreds of love for the fiery Noldo, but was shoved roughly by Maitimo to the floor.
Eonwe cleared his throat. "Now Maitimo we all are reasonable elves, ehrm Maia and ex Maia here. I'm sure Sauron-poo and I can agree on reparation to rectify the wrongs done to you."
The wailing stopped.
Maitimo smiled brilliantly.
*******
Walking out of the tent, with his left hand holding the lacquered box, Maitimo's mind recalled Eonwe's regretful mien and his parting words "Your flame will be welcome in our company should you desire it." He shook his red head. Nay, his focus now is rebuilding his life not finding bedmates.
The raven haired elf walked beside him, commented "Maitimo, the was some superb acting skills."
Matimo laughed proudly. "Makalaure, brother, one does not become a Prince of the Noldor without learning a trick or two. See how easy we've acquired the Silmarils without contending Eonwe's wrath."
Makalaure agreed, then spoken hesitantly. "Tell me brother, beside Grandfather, Father and us, who have you not share you fire with?"
Tapping his chins, Matimo ran his list mentally for a long while, replied. "Finarfin. I can never stomach his mindless drivels on enlightenment. He bored me to death"
Makalaure sighed. "Brother, just open the box and be done with our Oath."
The box was opened. The last two Feanorians stared at the content speechlessly.
"Brother, does the Silmarils look a little wrong to you?"
"That bastard Morgoth, he lighted them on for thousands of years, they ran out of battery!"
"Curse him to the depth of hell!"
"Oh they burn. They burn."
"Damn battery acids!"
The End