Now Back to the Good Part by Zhie
Summary: Instead of embarking upon a quest, Bainith decides to get some rest (and, cuddles). LOTRO-verse
Categories: Stories of Arda > Haven - The LOTRO Files Characters: Bainith, Valanyonnen, Yucca
Awards: None
Challenge: None
Genre: Action or Adventure, Romantic
Special Collection: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 3 Completed: Yes Word count: 2396 Read: 11811 Published: June 03 2011 Updated: June 03 2011

1. Chapter 1 by Zhie

2. Chapter 2 by Zhie

3. Chapter 3 by Zhie

Chapter 1 by Zhie
An odd camaraderie had settled over the group, and Bainith was not entirely certain what the purpose of the quest was. There had been some whispers of a shovel between Gilgladen and Feorsyer, and something about making a point of something that he did not entirely listen to or understand. On the other hand, he was developing a headache over Yucca's latest sudden great idea, involving the ugliest hat ever and adoption by a Dwarf. Nevermind that she had a perfectly good gammer and gaffer, she wanted to be a squire like Sterco so that she could go to Moria. Bainith was not certain whether the image of Yucca running into Moria on a pretty little pony holding a large white orchid was more frightening to him, or more ridiculous.

Somehow, he had ended up in Michel Delving with them. His only intent had been to pick up produce from his mentor (in retribution for the pies that her fox friend had destroyed). When he left the warm comfort of their little piece of four-poster heaven, Bainith whispered a few promises of a swift return to the darkling one who presumably was sleeping once more under pale blue silken sheets and a cozy canopy. It went without saying that swift returns did not often include long rides to foreign lands and persuit of foul beasts in order to safe a Dwarf, or do whatever it was that they were attempting to do, which Bainith was still a bit confused about. It may well have been that the bizarre headgear that Yucca insisted upon wearing had caused his brain to shut off, or at least, dull his senses so that he did not simply yank her from her mount, march her to her gaffer, and insist she be locked in a room until the wedding.

While plans were made, armor gathered, and a sword was given to Yucca, Bainith strayed his mount further and further from the group until he was conversing with a shopkeeper about the price of spices and how much honey he had room and coin to buy. All the while, he hoped they might actually forget he was there. Part of him wanted to go to watch after Yucca, but after the discussion earlier, and the harsh words he had spoken, he began to notice a little rift had formed between them, and he did not know if he really wanted to cross back yet. At some point he knew all would be mended, but they had never really had much of an argument, not yet, and the part that was upsetting was not that Yucca was showing a lack of remorse -- in fact, he could tell with certainty that she was sorry. The trouble was that she did not quite understand why she had earned glare and his silence.

Really, nothing she had done here was out of line, and he knew he would be writing a letter that would rival one of hers later. But an incident in Rivendell still had him ill at ease. It was when he had returned to collect a few things he had left there when he and Valanyonnen had gone hastily to Falathlorn that he overheard a conversation most distressing to him. He blindly reflected upon it again as he repacked his gear to accommodate fifteen pouches of herbs.


Bainith went right to the stables, hoping that the room he had been in had not yet been emptied, and that the few belongings he had forgotten would be there. What he did not expect as he approached the door was the irate tone of his mentor berating a scullery maid. He listened for a few minutes, and in that time learned that no one on the cleaning staff had wanted to take care of this guest room, if it could be called that, and that Zhie was quite livid to discover that after well enough to be taken from the healing wing of the Last Homely House, that one of the house maids had taken the linens and had them burned.

Initially, Bainith wondered if it was because he had some infection to cause such worry, but at the tone of his mentor's voice became angrier, he realized what the fuss was about. He had brushed off the idea earlier as to why he was put into such a remote room in Rivendell, still content to believe that the guest rooms in the house were simply full. Now that the truth was confirmed by the arguments from the maid, he slunk back down the stairs, not wishing to hear any more utterances of words and phrases such as 'unclean', 'misguided youth', and least of all 'reason why his parents abandoned him'.

That last part still troubled his mind as he recalled the sparks that shot out of the windows as he mounted his horse and hurried away, miscellaneous items forgotten. He did miss his blue feathered hat, but at least, he reflected as he buckled the sack and slung it over his shoulder, he had thought to leave the farming hat that Valanyonnen had made him in his vault in the Shire, so it was safe.

The sound of someone calling his name brought him out of his thoughts, and he mounted his horse and rode the short distance back to the others. They were all speaking proudly of their intentions on this quest, of the great battle that would happen, and how far they would journey. Bainith pulled back on the reigns of his horse as the others began to race off in the direction of the Dwarven-lands.

It only took a few moments for them all to circle back around, four to one, all staring at Bainith. What had seemed like a good idea, a way to prove himself before his peers, now seemed like a horrible idea. He had been gone long already, far too long by his measure, and he shook his head as someone asked if he was coming with them.

"I am having second thoughts," he admitted. "The distance is so far..."

"We will be back before you know it," someone insisted.

"I..." Bainith's gaze danced about, landing on Yucca. She sniffed her flower innocently, and he knew it would be even more confusing for her to understand things with what he was about to say. "I promised Valan... that is, I think I need to go back."

Yucca looked concerned, the giant flower swinging wildly about. "Are you still hurt, Bainith? I thought you were better now."

"I am very well, Yucca," he said, moving and twisting both wrists to show her that he was quite able to go into battle again. "But I..." Bainith looked about at the faces staring at him expectantly. In front of Yucca and Gilgladen he would have no trouble speaking, but Thraindan was another story, and he was unsure yet about Feorsyer. While it seemed that either the man was ignorant of the earlier discussion, or else was kind enough to feign ignorance, there was still that uncertainty of how people would react.

It was just about that moment that Bainith Proudfoot really and truly stopped giving a damn about what others thought of him. Yes, the words he had heard in Rivendell had hurt. Yes, there were certain places he knew not to go to, and certain people he knew not to talk to. But the alternative, to tiptoe around and let people pretend whatever they wanted so that they felt better was no longer going to do.

"I miss Valanyonnen." He paused, just to take in the reactions, and found them more or less neutral. "He and I do not get a lot of time together, and I disappointed him, and myself, when I went to Thorin's Hall. I am also a little tired, and I do not think I would do well in battle right now. However," he added before anyone could object to that, "Zhie is yet near Falathlorn, if she has not gone to Rivendell again, and I can seek her out and ask her to aid you."

The general consensus was that this was a great idea, even acquiring some clapping from Yucca. Bainith nodded, wrote down the information regarding their destination, and headed back to the homesteads, anxious yet relieved.
Chapter 2 by Zhie
Bainith crept slowly and soundlessly into the house, removing his cloak at the door. His gauntlets were the next to go, light leather with the strength of steel. They were less for protection against his foes, and more for protection against himself, stopping the constant burns he had suffered in the first weeks of his training. Now his self-inflicted wounds were little more than puffy blisters and calloused palms. He climbed the stairs, removing his hauberk in the darkness. Whether the shuffle of fabric awakened Valanyonnen, or whether he was awake already, Bainith did not know. He did hear a hum of approval as the discarding of the hauberk left him dressed only in form fitting trousers.

"Did you get the ingredients you needed? No broken eggs this time?"

It was the question asked, but it was not really the question. The real question was, 'Are you coming back to bed?' This was evident from the way that Valanyonnen held the sheet, elevated just enough for someone to slip under and join him. Someone who happened to be removing his loincloth with a chuckle. "And had time to make biscuits for breakfast before I came back." Bainith slid under the sheets as Valanyonnen reached out and pulled him closer.

There was a nuzzle against his shoulder, and Bainith shuddered as Valanyonnen breathed in deeply. "You went all the way to the Shire," he murmured in Bainith's ear, and the younger Elf shivered again. It was amazing that it took so little for Valanyonnen to just know things. After being around Hobbits, who had to snoop on each other, peek into windows while trimming hedges, and carefully open letters to find out secrets about others, Bainith found this change oddly refreshing, if not the slightest bit unnerving in a way. Anyone else, and he might have avoided the discussion.

"Only briefly. I came right back again." He bit his lip. "Yucca was going to go adventuring with a small group, and I was invited to go along."

"You could have gone with them," he heard Valanyonnen sleepily reply.

Bainith turned in his lover's arms, snuggling against Valanyonnen. "I would much rather spend the evening with you."
Chapter 3 by Zhie
There was a loud thumping on the front door that made both occupants of the bed stop what they were doing and stare at the stairway, as if the person at the door might break it down and rush up the steps.

"Maybe they will go away," whispered Valanyonnen.

The thumping sounded again, and Bainith untangled himself from blankets and limbs, and stumbled up to the window carefully, looking down. "Oh, no, how did she find me?"

"Who?" asked Valanyonnen as he sat up in bed, and watched Bainith struggle to retrieve some clothing where it had been discarded. He hid a chuckle as he watched Bainith flounder in the darkness, nearly putting on a pair of trousers backwards. "If no one answers, they will leave."

"No, she will not," muttered Bainith. He gave up on figuring out his hauberk in the half-light of dawn, and hastily found the long robes he had worn in Rivendell shoved down to the bottom of one of his packs. With a yank, they came most of the way out, along with a half dozen onions that rolled across the floor. "I will clean that up later. Promise."

By now, Valanyonnen was sitting up fully, arms crossed over his chest, thoroughly amused at the spectacle as Bainith struggled to get his foot into a shoe. "Try those over there," suggested Valanyonnen, motioning towards the pair that actually belonged to Bainith.

"Sorry," mumbled the youth as a blush colored his cheeks. "I will be back. Soon, I hope," he added as he rushed down the stairs to more insistent knocking on the door.

When he jerked the door open, he found a tall elleth in black and gold battle robes, leaning on a tall staff that sparked and shone red from the opulent ruby it held. "I hate to interrupt," she began, "but your friend from the Shire made it back in one piece." As Bainith breathed a sigh of relief, Zhie continued, "However, she lacks your sense of fashion completely."

"Oh... why?"

Zhie tilted her staff down the road that would lead to the Roslad neighborhood. "Just wander across the bridge and take a look. If she wears any of that to the wedding, it will certainly be an unforgettable ceremony. Someone needs to talk sense into that girl."

Bainith frowned and looked over his shoulder, up the stairs. He did promise to be back soon, but he never said he would not go and check on Yucca first. "Alright, I will see what I can do." He shut the door quietly behind him, and swiftly walked down the street to see just what Yucca was wearing now. The helm had been bad, but forgivable...

When he reached the Bent Spade, he was too shocked to say much at all. In fact, he found himself staring most of the time that he stood on the lawn. Certainly, her choices were not improving as time went on-- and yet again, he had seen Bandoras wear some awfully peculiar things, so perhaps it was all for the best.

He returned once again with a slight headache from the dizzying array of colors that Yucca sported, and made doubly sure that he had locked the door when he returned. No explanation whatsoever was given as Valanyonnen watched him questioningly with a mirthful look in his eyes as Bainith simply tried to say something a few times, and eventually shook it off, and with a wave of his hand said, "I am just going to hope that was a terrible nightmare."

"Well then, I think you should join me for some sweet dreams." Valanyonnen chuckled and gave a wink, which had the effect of causing Bainith to blush again. "I have business in the morning," he added, which brought Bainith back under the blankets very quickly indeed.
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