2. Epilogue
A/N: An Epilogue!
I didn't mean to do this, but I was reading TTT, & came across Saruman's
nice little speech:
"Dotard! What is the house of Eorl but a thatched barn where brigands
drink in the reek, and their brats roll on the floor among the dogs?"
And an epilogue was born.
The Palantír was beginning to steam up.
Saruman wiped his sleeve across it hastily and continued to watch, his
nose barely an inch from the ball's spinning surface.
The Dwarf and Théoden's brother's brat! Who among the wise could have
forseen it?
He had only unveiled the Palantír to check on the progress of the battle,
but a chance moment had somehow caught his attention, and now he was
staring at the ball, half-mesmerised.
They were rolling on the floor of the caves, snapping and snarling like
angry dogs, their faces contorted as they wrestled with each other - and
then, as Saruman watched, the Dwarf momentarily gained the ascendency
and reached down to take Éomer's mouth in what was unmistakeably a
kiss.
Saruman's nose moved a millimetre nearer the surface of the Palantír, just
as Éomer unbalanced the Dwarf and tipped him sideways, their lips still
locked together. He watched, fascinated, as Éomer caught him a blow
that sent a spray of blood from his head, and then yelped as the Dwarf
ground his face against the rough floor of the cave, and then threw
himself on him once more.
And then the tableau was interrupted, and the pair separated, their
arousals very evident even through the misted Palantír. Saruman
straightened up, still staring at the spinning globe. His mouth had fallen
open, but it was only the soft *splat* of saliva on the polished stone floor
that reminded him of the fact, and he shut his mouth quickly, wiping his
lower lip on the back of his hand.
He was suddenly acutely conscious of his own erection.
The war could mind itself for ten minutes, surely?
He glanced quickly back at the Palantír, and then hurried away to the
garderobe, shutting the door firmly behind him. He may have kept an
'open door policy' with his orcs, but some things were strictly private.
He had just begun to attend to the matter in hand when there was a roar
and a crash, and then an explosion that shook the very walls of Orthanc.
The Ents had arrived at Isengard.
I didn't mean to do this, but I was reading TTT, & came across Saruman's
nice little speech:
"Dotard! What is the house of Eorl but a thatched barn where brigands
drink in the reek, and their brats roll on the floor among the dogs?"
And an epilogue was born.
The Palantír was beginning to steam up.
Saruman wiped his sleeve across it hastily and continued to watch, his
nose barely an inch from the ball's spinning surface.
The Dwarf and Théoden's brother's brat! Who among the wise could have
forseen it?
He had only unveiled the Palantír to check on the progress of the battle,
but a chance moment had somehow caught his attention, and now he was
staring at the ball, half-mesmerised.
They were rolling on the floor of the caves, snapping and snarling like
angry dogs, their faces contorted as they wrestled with each other - and
then, as Saruman watched, the Dwarf momentarily gained the ascendency
and reached down to take Éomer's mouth in what was unmistakeably a
kiss.
Saruman's nose moved a millimetre nearer the surface of the Palantír, just
as Éomer unbalanced the Dwarf and tipped him sideways, their lips still
locked together. He watched, fascinated, as Éomer caught him a blow
that sent a spray of blood from his head, and then yelped as the Dwarf
ground his face against the rough floor of the cave, and then threw
himself on him once more.
And then the tableau was interrupted, and the pair separated, their
arousals very evident even through the misted Palantír. Saruman
straightened up, still staring at the spinning globe. His mouth had fallen
open, but it was only the soft *splat* of saliva on the polished stone floor
that reminded him of the fact, and he shut his mouth quickly, wiping his
lower lip on the back of his hand.
He was suddenly acutely conscious of his own erection.
The war could mind itself for ten minutes, surely?
He glanced quickly back at the Palantír, and then hurried away to the
garderobe, shutting the door firmly behind him. He may have kept an
'open door policy' with his orcs, but some things were strictly private.
He had just begun to attend to the matter in hand when there was a roar
and a crash, and then an explosion that shook the very walls of Orthanc.
The Ents had arrived at Isengard.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.
