Title: 540 Degrees (sequel to Full Circle)
Characters: Ulmo/ Cirdan, implied Cirdan/ OFC
Disclaimer: Not mine of course. No, really. Not mine.
A.N.: Not my fault. :: points to Cirdan:: The angry muse made me do
Ulmo could not remember a time when he did not consider himself
incredibly fortunate to rule over the waters of Arda. Of all his
kin, the water Ainu felt he had the most freedom. Manwe and Varda
stayed in their high mountain solitude. Namo, poor bugger, was as
eternally married to his job as Vaire was to weaving her tapestries.
Now that was a pair he didn't envy. No, not a'tall. He actually
LIKED feeling Arien's warmth on occasion.
But water…water was everywhere. And because water was everywhere, so
was he. Nosy, he was often called. Busy body, eavesdropper. Each
new name resulted in a smirk and some new bit of information on the
happenings in Middle Earth. He was a self-admitted gossip, and if
the others would admit it to themselves, they'd show a bit more
appreciation for the updates he and his subjects brought out of the
News that had grown increasingly dark. Annatar had spoken false in
his repentance, and now sought power and dominion over Middle Earth.
Had it been up to Ulmo (and no doubt both Tulkas and Orome had
secretly agreed), that one would have been tossed into the void along
with his Master. But he had been granted clemency, and their folly
would be the demise of many an Elf and Man this day.
He supposed it was too much to hope that the Shipwright would have
kept his nose out of it. The elf had a hero complex, but never
seemed to make it in time. Each time, Ulmo had been more and more
grateful. He'd grown terribly fond of the feisty Telerin elf over
the millennia they'd known each other, and his heart had grown
shadowed with worry when Cirdan left to battle the new Dark Lord.
Stationed in a small tributary just off the Anduin, Ulmo had snorted
in amusement when a familiar taste floated by. //Hedonistic wretch//
he'd thought fondly, the thought flavored with a good deal of wry
amusement. He'd made his interest known to the Elf centuries ago,
and since then, the old Lord had made it quite plain his interest was
He half-rose from the water when Namo appeared on the bank beside
him. At the Doomsman's raised hand, he sank back into the water,
leaving only his head and shoulders above the surface. His brother
vanished, leaving true fear behind. Namo's parting glance had been
full of pity.
The current took on a metallic tang. Blood. Elven blood, and one
he had tasted many times before upon the seas, mixed with the salt of
tears. He sped upstream, passing Henneth Annun and reaching his
destination in seconds.
He stepped onto dry land and knelt beside the huddled form. Though
the rise and fall of his chest assured the Vala he lived, something
about this one still felt terribly wrong. There was a chill to his
fea, an impenetrable shroud looming over both mind and heart. Ulmo
sighed and lifted the sleeping elf, holding him close as he reentered
The Lord of the Seas watched his young charge sleep, briefly looking
up when his Kinsman passed untouched through the raging falls of the
"You should take him home," Namo said quietly. "The StarSon will see
to what remains of his people."
"I am to take it, then, that their campaign was successful? The Liar
Mandos shook his head. "Nay, his spirit still lingers, but he fled
from me, and I could not follow."
"He has been disabled, then."
"Aye, but at a high cost." The Doomsman knelt and tucked a strand of
silver-white hair behind the elf's ear. "Particularly to this one."
"His companion died of an arrow through the heart when the Dark One
attacked from behind. I will leave it up to you whether he ever
knows she carried his offspring. I would use caution with timing,
however. I do not know how he would react to knowing that he lost
not only his mate, but both children, as well."
Ulmo blinked in confusion. "To my knowledge he had no offspring
"Your knowledge is accurate."
"Then I do not-" He paused, then sighed. "Gil-galad."
"Gil-galad. The child Fingon sent to him became as his own, and the
loss will be heavy." Namo rose, squeezing the other Vala's shoulder
firmly. "Take him home, brother, and have patience. He will need
you." With that, he vanished.
Travel was slow to one accustomed to travelling leagues in the blink
of an eye. As it was, the fragile creature in his arms demanded that
he pace himself. Flesh and blood could withstand much, and indeed,
this one had tolerated more than most already, but he dared not go
It was early morning before they reached the Havens, slipping through
the shadows of a silent city. It saddened him to think of how soon
the peace would be shattered in grief.
The steep cliff to the Shipwright's home was nothing for one such as
he, and in no time, he was laying the bearded elf on his own bed. A
breath made the basin of water steam. Ulmo took a cloth from the
wash stand, soaked it, and began the careful task of shaving,
stripping and bathing away the blood and gore from the elf's body and
assessing his injuries, which were mercifully few.
Despite the warm blankets now covering him, Cirdan shivered and
whimpered softly. Ulmo frowned. It was still plenty warm this time
of year, and elves were seldom susceptible to cold…the elf shuddered
again, curling into a tight ball.
The water deity sighed and allowed his scaly armor to sink back into
this skin, leaving him in nothing but a loincloth. He slipped
beneath the covers and pulled the naked body against his, curling
around it and sharing the warmth of deep waters.
There would be hell to pay come the dawn, of that Ulmo had no
doubts. Finding himself in bed with a nearly naked Vala would no
doubt bring a firestorm of curses raining down upon the demi-god's
head. However, the elf's ire mattered not. As long as he lived (and
Namo's parting statement assured the Sea Lord he would), the water
Ainu would be content.
Burying his nose in the thick, warm mass of white hair, Ulmo smiled
and let his mind wander seaward.