Shelter From the Storm

BY : Avgust
Category: +Second Age > Slash - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 383
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Tolkien's world (Silmarillion/Lord of the Rings/Hobbit), nor the characters from it. No money is made from the writing of this story.

"…. and the goddess fled to the heavens to escape this land's sorrows and its pain. Unable to look away however, the goddess will always keep one of her eyes on her children. By day, she watches us, and this we call our sun, and by night, she watches through her other eye, the moon."

Thranduil sat listening to the forest men tell their ancient stories by the light of the fire. In these pre-war days of camping, he found himself often with these men, intrigued by their strange lore and stories. He knew his presence would be missed in his father's camp, but he little cared. His objections to Oropher's plans fell only on deaf ears anyways.

"But one day not even the goddess will be able to keep her gaze on this land forever, and when she has finally seen enough, her eyes will shut, and then only darkness will cover the land."

This darkness will cover the land, Thranduil thought, and he let his eyes shut, while he thought about just what was on the horizon. A darkness indeed was spreading like a sickness over the land. It was a sickness that had brought them all here, standing on the precipice of war.

"And her eyes were shut, and the land and her children feel into the darkness. The goddess will weep no more. The shadows now covers her children, and she will see them no more."

A shifting of a burning log brought Thranduil's attention back to the campsite, and he was aware that the men were passing meat to one another, commencing with their evening meal. He excused himself, as he always did when the time to eat came, and he headed back to his own tent.

"For in the darkness, does true despair fester…."

The man's words faded into the night as Thranduil walked away from them.

The camp he walked from was situated near his father's camp, for the men who lived under and around Greenwood forest knew the elves and their king to be kindred people. They had requested to camp near to the King of Greenwood, for it was in him that they saw an ancient paladin, forever protective of them.

Thranduil did not have far to walk, but he moved with a pace that suggested that he did not care to return to his people. He walked as if in a daze, because he had entered into a place deep in his mind where the words from the men looped in his thoughts.

But the solitude of thoughts was not so easily kept in the middle of an alliance that was hundred of thousands strong.

"Would you keep yourself away from your kin on the eve of war?" One of his father's captain's asked, pulling Thranduil from his thought like trance. "We broke bread without you, and concluded the finality of your father's plans."

"I will be briefed on the morrow." Thranduil replied, uninterested. "I have already assured Oropher that I will do his will."

"Thranduil." The captain grabbed him before he could enter into his tent. "Your actions are dangerous. Do not divide yourself further from your king."

"Your warning is heeded and I assure you, there is no rift. I follow his command alone."

"The Noldor are not the answer." The captain called to Thranduil, but his words fell on deaf ears.


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The armies of the alliance had been camped for less than a week since the captains of the west had arrived. Each day had passed with meeting after meeting, as the captains finalized the last reviews of their battle strategy.

Glorfindel had been present for each meeting, accepting that he was a captain for the Imladris troops. It was a duty that he was honored to have, yet the gravity of the position terrified him deep within. It was a subtle fear that threatened to embed itself into his every thought, and cripple even the might of his body. Countless souls were under his watch. It was a task he did not take lightly.

Now that evening was on the camp, Glorfindel walked down the narrow paths between the tents. Even surrounded by the armies of the alliance he felt alone, empty almost. This was what he had wanted, a clear head and an empty heart. But the emptiness was taxing, exhausting even. He moved quickly as if he had a purpose, away from the center of the camp where the commanders were posted, and out to the edges where the night wardens made their watch.

Glorfindel sat under the mantle of the night and his thoughts drifted away from the war. It was a foolish game that his mind now played with him. His heart tugged at him. Why was it that a friend could cause such turmoil and confusion. He frowned. His thoughts should not lead him to wasteful obsessions that would never manifest again. But yet his thoughts continued on. Could Thranduil really only be just his friend? Glorfindel was not sure if the seeds that Thranduil had planted in his heart would ever wither and die.

"To think an enemy millions strong awaits us in that dark unknown." Elrond's familiar voice brought Glorfindel from his thoughts.

"Elrond. I would not think to find you here. Have you drawn a watch, or have you volunteered?"

"Neither." Elrond answered while he seated himself next to Glorfindel.

"I too wanted the illusion of freedom from this impending war. I am not sure why, but the piercing darkness is soothing. It is as if the woes of the world have disappeared under the illusion of the night."

Glorfindel smiled to himself, glad that Elrond offered him his company, glad that his thoughts about Thranduil had been stopped, so he could once again focus on what really mattered.

"But I know this illusion will fade with the morning come." Elrond sighed.

Glorfindel turned to study Elrond. In the dark of night under moon and starlight, Elrond's features were hard to decipher. It was his voice alone that was transparent.

"Have you seen the future in one of your visions?"

Elrond did not respond immediately, but instead dipped his head down. "What the Valar have shown to me was what we already knew. Death beyond imagine will come to find us. There will be lamenting in our songs for many years to come."

With his words, Elrond bade him goodnight, excusing himself, heading back to whatever destination he had been going to. Glorfindel was once again alone in his reflection.

Elrond had stated nothing beyond what he already knew would come to pass, but at the same time, his words struck Glorfindel to his very core. And even though he really should have thought about every soul that was his to command and protect, his thoughts could only turn to Thranduil. Words from years ago flashed within his mind.

"I see myself laying dead….."

Glorfindel frowned deeper, and a sudden gust of wind blew over the fields and through the camp. In the distance he could hear the sounds of voices, but he paid them little mind. He now wanted instead to focus on his memories. He tried to subdue the growing dread that was building inside. Would the secluded arms of the Greenwood not have kept Thranduil safe? Or was it here on the fields of war that his doom would surely find him?

Glorfindel could only hang his head, not sure what sort of answer he would find with the coming of the dawn.

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Notes:

Like all my stories, this one is A/U and takes liberties with canon. Many liberties will be taken with timelines and events but I do try to reflect some canon.

Not beta read. This story is a work in process, and will be continued

The title for this story and that chapter titles are shamelessly stolen from the amazing Bob Dylan song Shelter From the Storm.



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