Title: Dragon's Lair pt. 1/?

Author: Deathangelgw

Author email: deathangelgw@gmail.com

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, though the dragon is mine.

Warnings: AU, OOC??, death, dark, sap, angst, slash later, some fluff and humor

Pairings: Lindir+OC, Orophin+/Lindir, Lindir+Haldir, Lindir+Rumil later

Rating: R mainly. Some PG-13 here and there

Summary: Lindir is taken by a dragon and raised by it. But who turns who and will that bond save them?

Beta: MA as usual!!

A/N: This is inspired by a pic by the lovely Gwyllion!! *glomps her and kisses* You are so wonderful dear!! Feedback is mucho appreciated!! Enjoy!!

'thoughts'

The air was still around the darkening forest as the crunch of teeth in bones echoed sickeningly around the bloodied glade. A large sinuous body shifted amidst the scattered corpses as it nosed around, searching for another tidbit to fill its hunger.

A tiny wail broke through the dead suddenly, surprising the giant predator in its search for prey. The long scaled neck arched and lifted the streamlined head as it looked for the source of the cry. A scaled eyebrow tilted up in curiosity as the wail issued forth once more and a forked tongue flickered out the pointed snout to taste the air as the lizard rose up and stretched its magnificent leathery wings.

It stalked over, near silent in its moves, as it focused on the cry's source, maroon multi-faceted eyes swirling in both interest and anticipation. A silvery claw moved out as the dragon stopped by the corpse of a she-Elf and lifted the corpse out of the way as the wailing resumed and didn't cease. Tilting its head down, the dragon flicked its tongue out again in rising interest.

An Elfling lay on the ground, sucking its thumb as it whimpered. Its pale air was darkened with blood, dirt, and ash, but there appeared to be only a scratch on the little one's hand. It watched the silver dragon with wide tearful eyes, not moving much as the dragon leaned in close, smelling it.

'An Elfling...barely a year old. This she-Elf must have protected him from my attack,' the dragon thought in amusement as he brought his head up to gaze down at the Elfling imperiously. His tongue flickered out as he tasted the child's fear, curiosity, and hunger. He readied his claw for a strike, but then stopped thoughtfully as they gazed at each other. 'His spirit is strong...he is not afraid of me. Perhaps I can turn this little one to my way, to serve my master...'

He lowered his claw and carefully grabbed the Elfling, a hissing purr floating as the young one whimpered and held onto the silvery claw with his tiny hands. Shifting his head, the dragon gazed steadily at the little one, noting how blue the tearful eyes were...and how fearless they now seemed. 'Quite brave, this one...' he thought, impressed. Not many could stand up to one such as he. Hissing softly, the dragon searched the little one's mind. "Lindir...you are mine now," he purred out, his voice a soft tenor that echoed eerily through the battlefield.

"Nana? Where Nana?" Lindir asked quietly as he sniffled, looking around carefully.

"She is in the care of your Valar, Lindir," the dragon replied, smirking in amusement as two tears trailed down the Elfling's plump cheek.

"Who you?" Lindir asked timidly as he looked up at the dragon.

"I am known as Gûrgeleb by your people, but my name is Lhûgthind, son of Morgoth," the silver dragon replied as he reared up slowly, spreading his wings. Crouching down, he jumped sharply into the air, bringing his wings down in a down sweep as he gained altitude swiftly. He smirked again as Lindir sobbed, reaching for the diminishing bodies of his dead family before the mists of the lowest clouds shadowed them from his view. He turned east and headed for the Hithaiglin and his home. (Silver death; Pale snake)

His powerful wings carried him to the snow covered slopes, where he dipped down and soared amidst its snowy peaks and valleys. Lindir watched everything silently, surprising the dragon even more with the Elfling’s bravery. At last they came to series of caves that were situated among the tallest of the peaks, the largest of which he came to and carefully landed on with gusting down sweeps of his wings.  His claws clanged on the smooth stone as he landed, earning a whimper from the Elfling as he reared up to keep his balance.

Setting the child down, Gûrgeleb dropped onto his forelegs and looked down at the terrified Elfling. “Go ahead of me, Elfling,” he hissed out in command, using his tail to urge the child ahead before him. Haltingly, Lindir toddled through the caves, clutching his tattered cloak around him as he sucked his thumb, sniffling here and there. They walked through winding tunnels until suddenly they came out into a monstrous cavern that spanned for several hundred leagues in all directions. Lindir stopped and looked around in amazement, eyes wide as he saw the glittering gold and jewels that were sparkling with the torchlight that was shining out.

The silver dragon slithered down to the lower levels, waiting for the little Elfling to catch up to him as he came among his hordes of treasure. He tilted an eyebrow as his tongue flickered out, tasting the air and especially his new charge. “Come here, Lindir,” he called out coldly before he drew his claw over a stack of rich fabrics. He snorted as he found some lesser quality fabrics and brought it out, slicing it neatly. As Lindir toddled down uncertainly, he dipped one of the clothes in a pool of water nearby, and then offered it to the Elfling. “Clean thyself, Elfling. Your stench is disgusting,” he ordered indifferently before looking around. He watched Lindir strip away his clothes clumsily before taking the wet cloth and cleaning himself.

Frowning as the stench didn’t leave enough, the dragon flicked a claw out and removed the diaper that clothed Lindir’s bottom, then took the cloth, cleaning the whimpering Elfling himself. He finally looked at the diaper and his eyes widened and swirled. One of the clothes floated over and folded itself swiftly around Lindir’s loins before a makeshift nightshirt came over as well and drifted over the tiny body. Lindir looked up wide-eyed at Gûrgeleb, and then smiled hopefully. But the smile faded at the cold return in the maroon eyes. Nodding towards a bed of satin pillows, the dragon ordered, “Go and sleep, Elfling. Your life is now mine.”

Sadly, Lindir went towards the pillows and scrambled onto them, curling up in them as he tucked his feet into the oversized night shirt. He sniffled and started crying softly, weeping for his Nana and Ada as he lay in the cave of his master. He would never know freedom again...

TBC

(yes I know this is soooo short, but I’m really unsure where I was going with this and the muses are on temporary hiatus. SO forgive me!)

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