The Coming of the New Elves

"Why is it always me?" Koth complained as he dragged a golden hand down over his glowing orange eyes.

"Shut up and use that Cunning Hand to catch the baby." I ordered my son as I held Eltariel's legs up to help her push.

After only a year of pregnancy - as opposed to the hundred and eight years for normal Elf babies - Eltariel brought our first son into the world. She named him Uanor, and my Elf speak translation might be a bit off because I never bothered to learn their frilly language, but his name should mean 'Monster Elf'.

She'd soon come to regret that choice as the boy grew to become damn fine in the dozen years it took him to reach full maturity. Not an ounce of Uruk twistedness made it into his elven features, but Uanor grew taller than any elf currently in Middle Earth at just over seven feet tall, but not as tall as Thingol was. He possessed broader shoulders and wider hips while more thickly bound with muscle than other elves, but he possessed his mothers grace in full.

Flawless bronze skin and luxurious wavy black hair with a pair of glowing gold eyes marked him as mine, along with incredible physical might and fey power. My powerful senses and his natural affinity for foresight combined to warp his perception of the world into full precognition, and combined with his massive talent for learning warfare created a son fully capable of kicking my ass if not for my own raw instinct and tenacious durability.

Honestly the kid felt more like some kind of wish fic OPMC, and I loved him all the more for it. If Uanor lived in the first age Sauron and Morgoth would have been fucked, for despite all their incredible power they both sucked cock in physical confrontations. Seriously, put the kid in Fingolfin's place and Morgoth would've never hobbled back into Angbad.

Eltariel gave me two more sons and a baby girl while Uanor grew up, Tinnedir who's golden eyes glowed more brightly than any others, Seregon whom she foresaw to be the quickest of his brothers to violence, and finally Dagril a girl to follow in her mothers footsteps as a lethal combatant.

For the first time since I awoke as Grunt, I allowed the world around me to fade from my mind and spent my days allowing children to pull me around as they wanted. Even when Jack and I finally had children, my war of one upmanship against the Ravagers took up most of my time, but here in Middle Earth I had everything in hand and nothing to pull me from the children that filled me with such delight.

Thank God Eltariel and I chose to… forgive me Jesus for I have sinned… practice safe sex from then on. The idea of being so enamored with children for all time would have made me objectively the worst Grunt, so after I raised and trained my baby girl the spell broke and I was once more the self absorbed monster on a nonstop bender of an afterlife.

For fucks sake I took up horse breeding for like a whole decade, and sure the horses I bred from stock provided from Harad absolutely slap, smart as people and powerful, fast, and indefatigable. Honestly some of my best work, but mother fucking horses.

Horses are objectively brutal fucking animals, but I usually work with the kind of creatures that eat horses, not make horses that eat those creatures. You know what, fuck it. My horses are Metal as Hell.

On the plus side I apparently finished my work on fire breathing Wyverns bigger and stronger than Fellbeasts, capable of flying around with my oversized gold clad ass on them while carrying a Shire Horse in each clawed foot, and I don't mean ponies that Hobbits from the Shire can ride, but the twenty four hundred pound work horses made for towing barges and pulling heavy plows.

I took a big bull wyvern for my personal use with thick ruby scales and an orange underbelly. Had a rack of horns on him that would give the Arishok envy and could spew gelatinous fire a hundred yards. He'd be fucked against a platoon of Elven archers, or even proper Dunedain or Ithilian Rangers, but the guy was a great big good boy and I'd never run him head long into that kind of danger.

I rose up from the bed Eltarial and I shared completely refreshed from my time as a good dad and ready to take on the whole world again. Everything was coming together perfectly.

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Uanor strummed a few cords on his guitar idly at the prow of his sloop while Gorgum manned the tiller and Mursha hung a fishing line off the port side whistling a tune.

"Mursh, get yer fat ass up to the prow, I don't know why we are so back heavy, but we gotta even out." Gorgum shouted at his sister.

"I can't imagine why that is." Uanor chuckled as his albino half sister glared daggers at their largest brother.

With a single sharp whistle from the Elf's lips, a massive furry black head came up from below deck and began panting with its huge tongue lolled out the side of its mouth.

"Damocles? Damn it Mursh, we were supposed to have food packed in there, not the family dog!" Gorgum complained loudly.

Mursha held the massive head to her breasts and scoffed, "Dad doesn't take him out enough, and Damo is such a good boy, he deserves more adventure in his life."

"You'll be glad she brought him before the end." Uanor spoke with a grave tone as was his way.

"Oh fucking great!" Gorgum cursed, "Keep the foresight bullshit to yourself thank you very much. I prefer my future with a side of self determination."

The enormous creamy Uruk put his hamhock of a hand over his face and shook his head.

"Why the hell'd I come on this 'adventure'?" he muttered and returned his attention to the tiller.

Uanor rose up in the prow and looked upon his brother, "Because our father has handed the world to us, made us princes in more than just title, but in power and might. And in turn we will give him the One Ring and help him finish his ascension to higher being."

"Oh… that." Gorgum grunted.

"Worry not, brother. For I will keep you well fed on this journey." with a faint smile Uanor took up his long bow and fired a barbed arrow into the river before drawing it back with the fine Elven rope tied to it.

On the arrow came a large black channel catfish which the Elf threw to his Uruk brother.

"Fucking hours wasted!" Mursha complained as she stared at her fishing pole with a look of betrayal in her light blue eyes.