1. I Ain't Got No Body
"Again? What was it this time?"
"Tried to swim against an undertow."
"Dammit, Glorfindel! I've never seen an Elf so accident prone. Oh, all right, you know the drill."
Glorfindel's fëa made its way to the body chamber and stepped in. Lights flashed, buzzers sounded, the door hissed open, and Glorfindel, in a fog of dry ice, walked out in his brand new body.
"Looks good," Námo observed, "if I do say so myself. And I do."
"I don't know," Glorfindel said, shifting from foot to foot and hiking up his hips. "It's a little tight in the crotch."
"It'll stretch out, give it a few months," Námo said.
"All right then. Bye."
"Yep, off you go."
*two months later*
Námo was sipping his tea when Glorfindel's fëa appeared before him. He jumped like a scalded cat and tea flew everywhere.
"Glorfindel! What in the name of Manwë's shiny knob…?"
"Horse threw me," Glorfindel said shortly.
"Off to the chamber with you," Námo said with a sigh.
Glorfindel wandered back in, naked. "Mind if I join you?" he said, approaching a chair.
Námo tossed the tea towel under him just before his butt hit the naugahyde. "This is getting to be quite the habit with you, Glorfindel," he said, pouring him a cup of tea. "You've got to be more careful."
"I do try, but something always seems to happen."
After the tea and a couple of cucumber sandwiches he left.
*two months later*
Námo was flossing his teeth when he saw Glorfindel's fëa in the mirror behind him. He dropped the floss and gasped causing one end of the string to go down his throat. He had a minor coughing fit and tears were streaming from his eyes as he shouted, "Glorfindel!"
"Slipped on the soap," Glorfindel's fëa shrugged.
"You do this one more time and I'm putting you in a Troll!" Námo groused.
"This isn't fun for me either," Glorfindel said crossly.
"No, I guess not. Just get in the chamber already."
Glorfindel came out looking boffo. Námo almost drooled at the sight of him.
"My best work ever," Námo beamed, turning Glorfindel around and looking him over. He took a lint brush and ran it over Glorfindel's butt to remove a couple of wayward hairs. "You have got to take care of this, I'll never make one better."
"You know, I'm thinking maybe a change of scene. A trip to Middle Earth or something."
"Out of the question!" Námo said firmly. "No dangerous sea voyages for you."
"All right, I'll just go to the hunt this weekend."
"No better rider than you are? Not on your newly minted behind."
"Well, then I'll just hit the shower and be on my way."
"You're here because you slipped on the soap. You are forbidden to shower ever again."
"Then what can I do?" Glorfindel was exasperated.
"There is one safe activity," Námo said with a grin.
They were right in the middle of making love when Vairë's tapestry of Glorfindel slaying the Balrog fell on them. Námo struggled out from under the heavy cloth but by the time he pulled Glorfindel out, the Elf had suffocated.
Glorfindel's fëa floated next to Námo's shoulder, looking down sadly at his beautiful, lifeless body.
"That was a really nice one too," he sighed.
"Yeah, I'm gonna miss that one," Námo said, stroking the golden hair.
"To the chamber again?"
"No, I have a better idea," Námo grinned.
He picked up a straw and sucked Glorfindel's fëa into it, then shoved the straw up the body's nose and blew hard. Glorfindel took a deep breath, then another, and finally his eyes fluttered open.
"Whoa!" he said. "That was. . . wild!"
Námo laughed. "I haven't done that in years. You should have seen the look on Fingon's face when I did that to him.
"Please, spare me the details," Glorfindel giggled.
"All right, off with you now," Námo said good-naturedly. "And this time be extra careful!"
"I will," Glorfindel promised.
*six months later*
Námo was putting the finishing touches on his bonsai tree when he heard a voice behind him.
"Ever try to feed jerky to a Warg?"
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.