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Clasp Me

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A/N: Welcome to the latest joing venture between bluehair and TheTVJunkie!:) If you happen to be a reader of either of us two authors you surely know that we're both writers that love creating explicit fanfiction in all of its glorious and shameless deviancy.;) Please heed the tags and warnings for this story as this smutty little tale will cater to some pretty rare and extraordinary kinks we came up with just for you.^^ Feedback is always welcome.


Bard blinked, shielding his eyes against the blinding autumn light. The sun stood very low at this time of the day, casting its last intense afternoon rays through the quickly gathering clouds that hang darkly, promising rain and probably brewing storm all too soon. Usually, Bard would not have worried about the whereabouts of any of his children, smart and well-taught as they were. The hardship of growing up without a mother and, most of the time, with only an absolute minimum of everyday life luxuries has made them tough and independent.

Thus, it was very much unlike his boy to be unreliable and not come home at the promised time, let alone skipping supper.

"Bain!" Bard shouted, hoping for a reply, but to no avail. "Bain, answer if you can hear me!" he tried again. Nothing.

The bowman sighed. There was only one place he hadn't been looking for Bain so far and he really, really dreaded going there. The area was shunned by the people from Lake Town ever since; oppressive urban legends and, doubtlessly exaggerated, half-truths and nautical yarn kept them away from the gloomy, miry bog the lake disembogued into on the far end where the surrounding woods were so thick it was hard to find a way in to access the swamp in the first place and, heaven forbade, find your way out again.

Tales of ignes fatui, will-o'-the-wisp in common parlance, were reported by both locals and travellers alike; their flickering, phosphorescent lights blamed for many a man going missing after following the traitorous, delusional blue flames that allegedly led the poor sods to find their untimely demise in the gurgling depth of the haunted swamp. Scary stories of people disappearing after compulsively following an enthralling, far-away song nobody but them could hear before the ground, quite literally, opened up before them and swallowed them.

Every couple of years a dead body was found, partially mummified due to the moore's preservative qualities. Oddly though, some of the bodies were disturbingly mutilated, bites taken out of their flesh in whole that no indigenous fish or mammal could have been held responsible for. Hence, more yarn was spun - of sea snakes and fish monsters, wood sprites and sirens, all conjecturally residing in that cursed swath of land called Murkwood.

Determined, Bard made his way through the thick rows of age-old conifers, whipping out his dagger just to ease his wary mind a bit. Ever so careful he watched his every step, trying to hop from one random rock to another rather than relying on the mossy ground to support his weight. It was just then that he became aware of the dead silence suddenly surrounding him, not a single chirping cricket or bird could be heard. He halted, intently listening. Even the wind seemed to have stopped his whisper. Bard looked up, but could spot neither the moon nor the stars for the canopies of the trees became even thicker the further he advanced. The fading evening light had long made for an all-surrounding darkness, now chilly ground mist wafted eerily towards the tense human. All that obscured the ominous silence was the occasional bursting of little gas bubbles that, indeed, resulted in small blue flames here and there yet Bard paid them no heed. Where there was mist, there usually was water as well and Bard knew that, given Bain had really lost his way in this dark forest, the boy would have searched for a clearing to let the stars help him find back his sense of direction.

The bowman's pathfinder knowledge didn't disappoint for soon he did reach a clearing that held a vast bog pond. Its pitch-black surface lay smooth and silent, almost as if waiting to pounce and drag stray wanderers down to their watery grave.

THE CREEPY BOG

Willing his vivid imagination to stop painting grotesque pictures in his mind, Bard exhaled audibly.

"Baaaaain!" he shouted loudly, desperation increasingly evident in his voice. "Bain, for the love of god, I"

Splash.

Bard startled, turning towards the direction of the unexpected noise. He narrowed his eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of the source in the faint glow of the stars but in vain. Then, another splash, alarmingly close. Bard frowned, taking a step back. He felt like being watched, a sitting duck to fall prey to an invisible foe.

"Show yourself!" the Bowman demanded, dagger defensively raised before him.

Long seconds ticked away and Bard inhaled sharply, waiting, sure to be attacked any second. The corner of the nervous human's mouth twitched, irritated. "I said show yourself, craven monster! I dare face the ugly abomination you are!"

Again, Bard was shrouded in silence until suddenly there came a clipped, affronted reply that echoed oddly.

"Ugly?"

Bard spun around and tripped, shocked by the close proximity of the rich, orotund voice. Ungracefully, the bowman landed on his rear end, eyes growing wide at the sight before him. There, only a couple of metres away and where he had last expected the monster to be, a head protruded from the water. Mesmerised, Bard took in the mass of shiny white hair gently floating on the water around the creature, its chiselled features and ivory skin looking almost translucent while the firs behind its pointy ears reflected the cold starlight in iridescent, scaly splendour. Despite its superficial beauty Bard's monster seemed grumpy and hostile, though.

THINGS SPLASHING IN THE BOG

"Puny human," the creature snapped Bard out of his blatant gaping. "For this egregious impudence alone you have forfeited your life!"

That said, it shot forward, bearing two rows of razor-sharp, pointy teeth, its formerly celestial features twisting into a gruesome, amphibian-like grimace that held no resemblance with its former appearance. The Bowman quickly recoiled best he could, terrified at the transformation. But the ground beneath him was marshy and just like quicksand, Bard felt himself sinking deeper the more he struggled to get away. Due to the bowman's frantic movement the unstable ground beneath him broke away and he unwillingly sank into the water up to his chest.

"Please!" he pleaded in a desperate attempt to save his life, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm just looking for my son! I never meant to disturb or insult you, oh water spirit!"

Much to his surprise though, the fatal ripping of his jugular never came. Still shaking, he reluctantly opened his eyes, holding his breath. The creature had come to a rapid halt and was now so close Bard strongly had to resist the urge to reach out his hand and touch its face as it slowly transformed back to its more human-esque form. Two blue eyes transfixed him.

"You've lost your son?" The creature enquired suspiciously, quirking a brow.

Bard nodded, letting out the breath he was holding. "Yes, he has gone astray and I went looking for him here." He then added a little sheepishly. "Please don't eat me."

"Eat you?" Bard's monster frowned in disgust, retreating a metre or two. Then it seemed lost in thought for a moment.

"Very well, shabby human, you may leave. This time." Bard could have sworn he saw sadness flickering in the creature's blue eyes. "Go find your son and never return to my lands. Ever."

Bard didn't need to be told twice. "Yes, yes, thank you so much!"

Fully aware that he just cheated death at hair's breathe he scrambled to his feet and instinctively just ran. He was sure that he wouldn't find Bain here, not in this inhospitable realm. Either the boy had been eaten alive already or fate had been merciful and hadn't led him here in the first place. Bard strongly hoped for the latter.

 

༻✨❀✨༺

 

Thranduil submerged with a dramatic flip of his majestic tail fin, heading towards his underwater palace. It was rare for him to visit the outer rim of his kingdom, the swamp a rather useless region, long abandoned by his people with dangerous mortals living so close. No, despite common belief of the inhabitants of Lake Town, Murkwood stretched far further than just the bog. And deeper. Unbeknownst to other species, there was a vast, ancient tunnel system under the lake itself, so widely ramified it allowed his people to reach Belegaer, the Great Sea and the Bay of Belfalas in the West easily within a matter of hours. The fact that he had shown mercy for Bard was due to the mere fact that he was looking for his own son, Legolas. The ungrateful brat had had the nerve to run away from his regal home after…well, showing signs of intolerable disobedience and neglect of princely duties. No matter how questionable they were.

"Eat him, tsk." Thranduil muttered to himself, rolling his eyes as he tried to shoo away the grim thoughts of his unruly son and concentrate on the scaredy-cat bowman instead. Humans were so incredibly barbaric. Although, he had to admit, the appellation "water spirit", despite being clearly incorrect, had appeased his foul temper a little. Admittedly, Bard would have made a nice snack for his pet crab, but it made Thranduil shudder to merely think of actually devouring one of those germ-infested beings himself.


 

A/N: More coming soon. Please let us know if you like the idea of Merman!Thranduil. Thank you.