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@ask-ungoliant
The Most Awesomely Evil thing EVER.
Picture this: A Standard Heavy Metal Band. One Vocal, Two Guitarists (Bass, obviously), and a drummer.
BUT THEN: Morgoth is the Vocal, Sauron and Glaurung are the Bassists, and Ungoliant is on drums.
IS THAT NOT EPIC?
And Gothmog does the cleaning-up afterwards, hmm?
Provided Ungoliant doesn’t eat everything first.
I promise not to eat everything first. *creepy grin*
ask-sauron replied to your post: Darling, your and Ancalagon’s spawn has hatched~
We will, as long as you do not eat it. But don’t get too attached; it is likely that we won’t be able to keep this one.
I promise I will not eat it! Why would I eat my own child? *creepy grin*
Not keep it? Why so?
*Raises brow* Because sometimes I wonder if you are not simply a mindless stomach, if you want my plain answer.
This one may grow too large, for one, maybe even as large as Ancalagon. We cannot feed three of you giants. It also does not have all the traits we wished to breed.
Oh, I assure you, I am not always a mindless stomach. *grins widely*
Ah, it does not have all the traits? Poor little dear. *motherly instincts kick in, but represses them out of concern of getting attached*
Ungoliant and Morgoth
ask-sauron replied to your post: Darling, your and Ancalagon’s spawn has hatched~
We will, as long as you do not eat it. But don’t get too attached; it is likely that we won’t be able to keep this one.
I promise I will not eat it! Why would I eat my own child? *creepy grin*
Not keep it? Why so?
Darling, your and Ancalagon's spawn has hatched~
They have?! Let me see them!
And suddenly dragons everywhere….
Would you prefer something more fuzzy, perhaps, darling?
But what’s wrong with scales?
Nothing! I do love scales on certain mighty and alluring dragons. *shakes rear*
I merely meant to ask if the Lady preferred fuzzy bodies instead.
And suddenly dragons everywhere….
Would you prefer something more fuzzy, perhaps, darling?
I propose that we have a dinner party after sacking Imladris. What do you think?
Yes, please! I'm famished!
Is this a date proposal?
Big Brother Maglor
By Kamuna (not certain if this is the artist’s main art site. Just google the name and you will see so much of the other stuff they’ve done. Very beautiful!)
I miss your hugs, brother.
And now I get all the Maglor hugs, nyah! :p
Who am I kidding? I would hug you too. Doesn’t feel right with just the two of us alive.
I get all the Amrod hugs, nyah! Though that does not feel like a victory….
I would hug you as well. I miss you, brother, and the rare hugs you did give.
They look so tasty! If ever you leave the Halls, may the Keeper put you in elfling bodies! So plump!
010. My heart’s desire is for some tearful hurt/comfort Celebrimbor/Finduilas smut.
Art source (1, 2)
what…….
I think you would have made a fine mate for the easy-burner, little one. The more easy-burners around, the more fun we who love fire have.
Indeed, both would have made great shish kabobs.
008. I just really want to experience an Ambarussa sandwich.
Art source (1)
Did Ancalagon submit this? Who else would want to enjoy my brothers as a sandwich? You cruel, cruel thing.
Hm… I did not, but sounds nice, delectably scrumptious.
Perhaps I might share it with Ungoliant.
I want an Ambarussa sandwich! Sounds delicious.
I would like to share it with you.
It does. Quite a pity that they’re dead… but I don’t recall there being a ban on the return of any other than Fëanor himself, was there?
And what’s good is that there’s already two of them, so we won’t have to tear any in half.
No, I do not think there is a ban save for that barbecued elf. They have after all kicked out Maglor’s brother. Mmm, we will snatch them the moment they leave the Halls!
I want the fatter of the two. With some barbecue sauce.
Wonderful. Or we could hold them captive, and that way lureallof those Fëanorions out in the hopes of rescuing their brother(s). Then eat them all. We’d just have to split one of them. The tall one, probably.
Very well. I shall take the other with lots of spices.
That is a lovely plan! That tall one is particularly fat, from what I've heard. I would keep him for myself, but...I wish to share with you.
Spices are good!
008. I just really want to experience an Ambarussa sandwich.
Art source (1)
Did Ancalagon submit this? Who else would want to enjoy my brothers as a sandwich? You cruel, cruel thing.
Hm… I did not, but sounds nice, delectably scrumptious.
Perhaps I might share it with Ungoliant.
I want an Ambarussa sandwich! Sounds delicious.
I would like to share it with you.
It does. Quite a pity that they’re dead… but I don’t recall there being a ban on the return of any other than Fëanor himself, was there?
And what’s good is that there’s already two of them, so we won’t have to tear any in half.
No, I do not think there is a ban save for that barbecued elf. They have after all kicked out Maglor's brother. Mmm, we will snatch them the moment they leave the Halls!
I want the fatter of the two. With some barbecue sauce.
008. I just really want to experience an Ambarussa sandwich.
Art source (1)
Did Ancalagon submit this? Who else would want to enjoy my brothers as a sandwich? You cruel, cruel thing.
Hm… I did not, but sounds nice, delectably scrumptious.
Perhaps I might share it with Ungoliant.
I want an Ambarussa sandwich! Sounds delicious.
I would like to share it with you.
Spawning
Upon receiving the command from Mairon, Ungoliant scuttled off to a nearby tree. It wasn't as lush as the trees which grew around Ered Gorgoroth, but it would do. With her she brought the cart of food and munched on them to prepare herself for the laying. Egg-laying was easy enough to do with just a few tasty horse meat, though they would not be fertilized. But she trusted Mairon would find a method. The light of the Two Trees has since been spewed out of her, transformed in her body into a thick smoke which became the life-giver of her precious children, from which Shelob herself (her favorite among her children) was born.
It was not easy spawning children without a mate, but she made do with what she had. If she could turn the energy into her stomach, she could spawn. Otherwise, she could lay hundreds of eggs at once.
As she munched happily at her meal she glanced up at Ancalagon with lust. He may not become the father of this batch of eggs, but the sight of him alone was needed. She shook her rear with a slight fever, and out spewed her eggs.
She stood still till she was done, then turning around she admired her creation for a moment before wrapping them in silk, weaving them into a sac.
"Where are you, Mairon?" she called out, clutching the bag of eggs close to her as she scuttled out from her nest by the tree.
I have found a place for you in the mountains. You /will/ find it to your liking *pointed look*. I will leave it up to you when you wish to depart, but before you do so, lay a few eggs and give them to me.
A place for me? How sweet of you to find it! *grin* I am already on my way to the mountains, but I can stop for a bit to give you a few eggs. *scuttles off, bringing with her her cart of food and starts eating*
The Iron Hills
Ancalagon looked at his host, impressively arrayed in all his glory. They were all ready to march (those who hadn’t…well, that pile of charred bones over there wouldn’t be marching anyway). The sunlight alternatively glittered or was swallowed by the pattern of scales on his huge body as he raised his head to repeat Thuringwethil’s signal to the troops. Then he looked at Ungoliant (was she giving him odd looks…?) to be sure she was ready to march as well, before he rose into the air and flew north. The Dwarves, he was sure, would never know what hit them.
Mairon watched from the fortress as the troops started their march. He would be off to do some scouting in the mountains, leaving the fortress quite unmanned. Walking quickly to the officers’ quarters, he found the highest ranked officer and gave him orders to manage the place in their absence. He made a swift inspection himself about the fortress to ensure all was in order, then shed his fana and turned south-west, speeding off towards the Sea of Rhûn.
Ungoliant had been keeping an eye on Ancalagon, feasting her eyes (and not her stomach, for once) on the splendor of the magnificent dragon. When he gave the signal to the troops and was off, she followed with her own troops, first making certain that the massive cart she had them build was ready to be pushed. Then she was off, scurrying over the land at a speed driven by the thought of dwarven meat.
The Iron Hills
“Yes dearest,” Thuringwethil replied, glancing amusedly at the slightly annoyed Mairon next to her. ”We have something to tell you, and it involves munching on little Dwarves~ Are you interested, hmm?” she sweetly asked, tilting her head to one side and arching an eyebrow.
At the mention of “munching” and “dwarves” in the same sentence, Ungoliant quickly scuttered up her lair, her massive head popping out into the open.
“Dwarves you say?” she said. “Far more chewy than elves. Yes, tell me everything!”
Thuringwethil grinned. ”We are planning to leave for the Iron Hills tomorrow afternoon, darling. We should get there by nightfall a day hence, following the river. We will depart as one host, then split into two—you and Ancalagon in one, and Glaurung and I in the other. You will be coming in from the West side of the Hills, after splitting from Ancalagon, who will enter from the North. Glaurung has the South, leaving me with the East. The plan is to meet in the middle, after all resistance has been crushed.”
Ungoliant gave a soft hiss as she listened to the plan to attack the Iron Hills. She had a sharp memory and would know where to go. Plus, she would get a chance to travel with that hunk of lizard flesh Ancalagon.
“And what is the ruling on picking up snacks along the way?” she asked, thinking of all the delicious dwarves just waiting for her.
‘As long as it doesn’t cause delay,’ Mairon replied. ‘Try to keep it to a minimum. Bring along a cart of those, if you foresee yourself becoming unbearably hungry.’ He nodded to the twitching, silk-wrapped bodies hanging from the webbing that coated the ceilings and walls of Ungoliant’s lair. ‘We are considering making a lair for you in the mountains west of the Sea of Rhûn. There is food enough there for you, but we will also send you shipments of snacks now and then. I will be scouting for a place while you are at the Hills. Is that agreeable?’
"A cart? That sounds like a lovely idea!" Ungoliant said happily. She scuttered to one of the hanging bodies in her lair, picking out one that still looked it had strength. She pinched the thread and unraveled theslave, who whimpered at the sight of her.
"You will make me a cart big enough for dozen dwarves!" she commanded, the hungry lust in her eyes gleaming. "And you will carry it to the Iron Hill. Understand, morsel?" Bitter gratitude at being alive, the slave hurried off to prepare for her a cart.
She turned back to Sauron. "That is most agreeable!"
