Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death, Loss of bodily autonomy (no Non-con)
Chapter: 19
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"This is more annoying than trying to keep Angband functional." He considered the paperwork, with the script of his own making, yet the language of the Secondborn he was assimilating on it. "How does it compare to Valinor?"
"I am not sure I can compare it, Master." The golden once-king of the Noldor in Valinor softly answered, holding the 'book' he'd have to bring still. "Less Kinslaying."
"I suppose." He held out his hand, accepting the reed-scroll. These Men valued their limited livestock too much to let it die prematurely, wringing every last bit of milk and wool out of a given animal. "Rather boring, but I guess if it works, it works." Mairon spread the scroll on his desk, studying the numbers. "Well, unless a village tries to invent tax-evasion."
"They reported a drought this growing-season, Master."
"And I did not ask for your opinion." He snarled, watching as the elf smoothly bowed low in apology. "Just some obedience and cooperation, that's all I ask for. Apparently that's entirely too much to ask for."
This time, he didn't get an answer, which he very much appreciated. So he turned his attention back to the paperwork. "Get... mmmhhh..." He let the letter roll back up again, tapping it against his chin. "Schilder, bring Schilder."
He found only minimal glee at the mild flinch his golden elf could not suppress at hearing one of the new names. But really, was he supposed to let them keep the names of Beleriand?
The eldest of his elves returned promptly with the second-eldest, the copper-decorated son of Fëanor bowing deeply and elegantly on arrival. "Master?"
"Check these numbers." The Maia was not so proud - or angry - to deny that his elves had some use. And there had been little finances in Angband, that was for certain.
"Yes, Master." The one once named Caranthir, or Morifinwë, now only Schilder, gathered up the indicated papers. "Is..." He ducked his head lightly, pulling them close to his chest. Spoken without spoken to...
"I want to know if the tax-rate is accurate." He didn't want to bother with punishment today, not if he'd also have to punish a whole village soon. And he figured that while he could still play fast and loose with his elves, he'd better keep the Secondborn happy. Which meant that any punishments had to be 'explained' and 'warranted'. He was extremely grateful he had some leeway in the creation of the laws of these lands.
"Yes, Master." The elf withdrew to one of the decorative 'lava-pillars' were there was a rim he could use to spread the papers out on. Within moments, he was at work, the white shape of the Telperion-skintapestry a beautiful contrast to the rest of his skin.
Draugluin meandered up out of the wolf-pen, massive form needing only a few long strides to reach the desk.
"Yes?" He reached for the blue-grey shape, smiling faintly at the feel of wolf-fur under his fingers.
"Evening." His valet helpfully pointed out, living very dangerously today. Perhaps it had been too long since he'd dealt with the son of Finwë, if this was something that would keep up in the coming days.
"Ah yes." He abandoned his work for the day, only briefly gesturing for the elf to put it all away in its' proper places. Passing by his other elf, he entered the wolf-pen, where he was greeted by the other nine wolves. The pups toddled up to him, finally old enough to join the adults in leaving the building for any amount of time. This night would, in fact, be their first night in doing so.
"There's a village I'd like you to visit, if it's in range of the pups. Or also if it's not, but then first return them." He informed the adult wolves, gathering the youngsters up in his arms. "As a little warning, in case it does believe I am lax and kind, just because I give gifts once in a while." He scratched the bellies of two of the pups, until their siblings started trying to wiggle their way under his hands. "I am sure you remember how to loom threateningly, yes?"
And at least, none of these Secondborn would be able to kill any of his wolves, they simply did not have the necessary strength of arms for it, he was making sure of that this time around.
Draugluin huffed, curling around him.
"Yes, you do." Depending on how the village reacted, he might send Thuringwethil, or he might send himself. For the finances' sake, he hoped they'd prove to only need the vampire. On that note. "Verloren, where's Thuringwethil?"
"Last I heard she was in the city, watching the traders that are coming for the great market." The one once named Arafinwë answered evenly from his post beside the desk. "Should I send for her, Master?"
"No, she'll get here in time if that's the case." The great market was in two days, things could wait until after that.