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Shelter From the Storm	By : redkiwi Category: +Second Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1722 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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.

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S.A. 3434
The plains on which the armies of the alliance camped laid stretched around them. These lands were a wasteland, and were expansive as a great dead memory. Nothing grew, except unease and fear that festered in the minds of those who lingered here. While their valor was strong with the knowing that their failure to defeat Sauron would mean the end of their very freedoms, still unease and doubt festered within the ranks of the alliance. There was a nervous pulse that osculated throughout the camp, heightened by the desolate landscape that stretched around them.
They had made camp here a fortnight ago, after they had driven Sauron's forces further east. These lands were just outside the gates of Mordor, where Sauron himself reigned behind his vast and vile armies. It was on these plains that the alliance lingered as if in waiting. To Oropher, it felt as if this wait was to toy with them, unleashing an unnerve that would destroy them. The far seeing servants of their enemy he knew were watching them. Oropher hated that they watched them far off in the dark wastelands that surrounded them. He hated that they watched them play this game of stalemate in their waiting.
The first few days after they had driven the armies further to the east, Oropher had agreed to this strategy. He understood the merit that resting and planning had, and how it would be essential to collect themselves and allow for a time for recouping their strength. They had fought many battles in the weeks preceding just to make it to the lands that bordered Mordor. Those battles had been hard fought and won, and their wounds were many. The armies needed time to regain their strength and resolve. Oropher had agreed to make their camps, and wait for the scouts to go out and report what lay in waiting for them on the horizon, behind those massive black gates before Mordor.
But as the days rolled on, and the reports began coming in, Oropher began to rethink their strategy. The news that the scouts provided was alarming. Sauron's armies stretched beyond what the eye could comprehend. Comprised of vile and deadly creatures, Oropher knew that waiting only allowed their enemy to grow stronger and allowed them time to scout their own armies. Sauron's eyes were on them, watching them, analyzing them. He hated this strategy, for it allowed their enemy to gain the upper hand. Action needed to be taken. Oropher concluded that there was more merit in a surprise attack than this wait that Gil-galad now mandated.
Oropher wondered just what really waited and festered just on the horizon. The scouts had told of a massive army comprised of legions of beasts and orcs whose only intent was for the enslavement and annihilation of those who resisted Sauron. But, he also knew that the scouts could not see and know everything, and in the shadow of Sauron's towers, the darkness of the land had cast a dread upon his soul. It was sickening and merciless, and for the first time in his very long life, Oropher felt the true depths of terror. Sauron had the ultimate weapon, and with it he sought the utter control of those who would resist him. Defeat was not an option, and Oropher's heart trembled in the shadow of Mordor.
And in his watch and wait his own mind had fallen idle as well, disquieted with their long wait in tarry. Rest had been taken and to Oropher too much rest in the mind of a solider was akin to falling into the uncertainty of doubt and fear. He could fell fear growing within his ranks. Idleness was a stronger enemy than even was fatigue and fear. He no longer could understand Gil-galad's reasoning or strategy for wanting to prolong their wait. They had driven the enemy back, and to Oropher, he couldn't understand why Gil-galad and even Elendil did not want to conduct an aggressive approach. Oropher knew that the day of their attack would come sooner rather than later. The Noldor moved too slow and allowed Sauron the opportunity to regroup. Their strategy was madness.
Through these days of wait and planning, Oropher had not yet severed communications with the other commanders of the alliance. Even though he refused to acknowledge Gil-galad's command, he allowed Thranduil to attend the alliance's meetings. Thranduil would return from the meetings, relaying exactly what Gil-galad's plans were. Even though Oropher would never fall under their command, he still wanted to know the details of their thoughts. He would listen to the reports that Thranduil brought, mulling over the words of the plans until he grew angry and would interrupt him. Usually the later would occur within minutes, and Oropher's ire would manifest almost immediately.
Despite this constant hostility, Thranduil continued to represent the Greenwood in Gil-galad's council while they made camp on the fields. It was a useful ploy, since it allowed Oropher the opportunity to discuss with his own captains and those of Lorien with the planning of their own assault. Perhaps to Gil-galad and the other commanders, they now assumed that the Silvan armies had finally yielded and simply awaited Gil-galad's command on when and how to attack Sauron. But what seemed to be their willingness to follow Gil-galads commands, was instead a fevered planning of their own approach of attack.
Oropher did not worry about his son's involvement with the Nolder. Thranduil would march with them even without Gil-galad's approval. Oropher had no doubt in his son's loyalty. The spell that Glorfindel had cast on him had been broken. Thranduil's loyalties were woven deep to the Greenwood alone. Blood was thicker than water could ever be.
Oropher wondered if Gil-galad suspected and he wondered if Thranduil feed him clues of their plans. If this were the case, the High-King of the Noldor didn't bother to approach him, and Thranduil mentioned nothing of any suspicions. Even if the High-King did know of what they planned, Oropher cared not. He did not answer to anyone but the Valar alone.
“Oropher.” Amdir announced his presence, bringing Oropher out from his stream of thoughts.
“Is it already that time?” Oropher rose in greeting to his fellow King and closest ally.
“I actually am a little early for our meeting today, for this pause before the storm has left me beyond anxious.” Amdir took a seat by Oropher, who too had sat once more.
“Oropher, my army grows restless and the whispers of their worry threatens to unnerve their great resolve. We can not tarry any longer. Action needs to come.”
Oropher nodded, understanding the words. “Then we are in agreement regarding the course of action that we must take. Our attack comes soon. The time to ready our armies has came and we will meet our enemy before those black gates.”
Oropher closed his eyes, and he forced his heart to steady. The time for their final battle had finally come.
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Thranduil entered his father's tent late in the evening, just after one of the alliance meetings had concluded. Oropher sat alone, eyes closed as if in deep contemplation. Thranduil knew that his father had been in his own meeting today with the leaders of the Silvan armies, discussing their own course of action. Oropher didn't bother to open his eyes, but Thranduil could tell that he was welcome to address him.
“Gil-galad has requested your presence tomorrow.” Thranduil stated, seating himself across from Oropher. “The last of the scouts have returned. We discussed what their eyes have seen. The reports were terrible. What lays in waiting at the Gates of Mordor is evil that we dared not imagine. But it is the reality that faces us. Sauron has gathered to him more than what we had anticipated. Tomorrow the final strategies will need to be revised. For the sake of our army, you need to be present.”
Oropher opened his eyes, exhaling in his annoyance at the request. “And what would I need to discuss with Gil-galad? He already knows the stance of our armies. I will not have our people wait for our enemy to play their hand first. Prior to setting up camp here, we have pushed Sauron's armies further east and we have destroyed many of them. But now we let their numbers grow again? It is asinine to let them lick their festering wounds and recoup their strength. We should already be at Sauron's gate! But no, the High-King would have us wait to react to Sauron's move. Tell me Thranduil, do you see the reasoning in that?”
“I see the merit in waiting, but then again, I understand that need to attack. However, you must understand that we are not yet ready for an assault. In learning what else is comprised within Sauron's armies, we have not yet derived a sufficient plan to counter his weapons. We may have had the early victories, but they were hard won and were against the armies that were diluted. We have not yet encountered his full strength.”
Oropher shook his head, and with his deep green eyes, he dismissed Thranduil's words. “Our might can match that of Sauron's, I hold no doubt in that.”
“Gil-galad has really stressed the importance of your attendance.” Thranduil repeated, understanding that his father did not want to debate this night.
“I am sure he did.” Oropher laughed, annoyance evident. “I am sure he is wondering if we have now accepted his course of action as our own. He does not care to take my council. He never has. All we ever were to him were puppets that he could command and use. Gil-galad has never viewed us as equals. Our council means nothing to him. But then again….” Oropher's voice stopped as his mind entertained a different possibility.
“Can they expect you to join tomorrow?” Thranduil asked, wondering what his father's changing expression meaned.
Oropher was silent for awhile, and he closed his eyes as if he were seriously pondering Thranduil's question. His deep green eyes opened, but when they did, they were unreadable to Thranduil. For a minute they sat in silence.
“We will attack in two days time.” Oropher finally said, voice stern with the intent to let Thranduil know that debate was not an option. “The captains already are preparing the armies for our plans. It is time for action, Thranduil. We will strike first, instead of waiting for Sauron to make the first move. We will not let our enemy dictate how and when we attack. We will force Gil-galad into action, whether he likes it or not. I can not have our armies lose their resolve in the uncertainties of wait. This current strategy is allowing Sauron's forces to regain their strength, and this I fear more than acting in haste. We move on our on accord, and Amdir and I both agree that the time for war is now.”
“We cannot attack alone!” Thranduil answered in response, voice transparent with his disapproval.
“No we cannot. I fully agree with you on that Thranduil. But what we can do is force the alliance into action. Gil-galad will see our reason in the end. We will force our enemies hand, and Sauron will fall to our might. Under our leadership, I do not doubt the outcome of an Alliance victory.”
Thranduil sighed on hearing his father's words. His heart seemed to freeze and his mind spun with the worry of his uncertainty. “And this will be discussed tomorrow?” he finally asked once his mind had stilled.
“Yes, Thranduil. I will go to Gil-galad's meeting tomorrow, and our plan will be discussed. I do not seek his approval, but what I do want is for him to hear me out.”
Oropher could see the relief that washed over Thranduil's face. “Tomorrow we will discuss the final battle plans. It is up to Gil-galad to work with what we offer. For now, I have nothing more to say. Take your leave and take your rest. The day before a battle will unnerve every last bit of resolve that has grown within you.”
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There was a certain energy that pulsated and moved through the camp when morning broke. It was a sort of collective energy of a great anticipation that spoke of what would come to pass. Glorfindel felt it. It swelled like the rising crescendos of Gil-galad's and Oropher's grumblings at one another. Glorfindel had at first been part of the debates, if one could call them that. But as the morning had turned from the calm of the dawn, to that of conflict between the fractions within the alliance, Glorfindel had simply had enough of it. He didn't care if everyone regarded him curiously when he departed. He wanted no part of this madness today, so he simply had taken his leave. He now seated himself alone far from the command tent on the outer edges of their camp.
At this point, the internal bickering should have been over, because on that vast horizon was the might of Sauron's armies. But this was not the case. Angry voices had echoed in the morning, and disclosed just how divided some within the alliance actually were. Neither side would listen to the other, and because of that, a workable solution would never be found.
Oropher had disclosed that the Silvan armies would march to war in the morning. The others had protested the timing, claiming that it was still too soon to fight, and of course no agreement could be settled on. Glorfindel fully agreed with Gil-galad's reasoning, but nothing that they said could dissuade Oropher from his plan of action. And to make matters worse, the only voice of reason within Oropher's ranks was missing from the meeting. Thranduil was not present, and Glorfindel was not sure where he was, or what he was doing.
His eyes scanned the plains before him that led to the very gates of Mordor. In time, he knew that he would be before those gates. The thought that that time could be tomorrow froze his heart, for he knew that the timing was just not right. They had just collected the last bit of intelligence regarding Sauron's armies, and Oropher's plan did little to counter the new information that they had learned. They needed just a little more time before they led their charge against the Black Gates of Mordor. To charge into battle tomorrow would be disastrous. Surely Oropher would see this reason.
Glorfindel could only wonder what the final outcome of today's meeting would be. Without Thranduil's reasoning for his father, would Oropher listen to the words that Gil-galad and Elendil spoke, or would their words only fall on deaf ears? Glorfindel also wondered if Gil-galad and Elendil would listen to Oropher's thoughts as well. Despite his impatience, Oropher did have the same goal of protecting their people and defeating evil. There was merit in Oropher's urgency for action. But without a mediator, there truly would never be an alliance between the Silvan and Noldorin armies.
As a captain, it really wasn't his place to make decisions for their army. His job was to take orders from his commander, and he would. He would follow Gil-galad's command, and he knew that he would be briefed on the outcome of today's meeting on his return. Now was not the time for him to think about their plans. He had spent countless days obsessing over it. Now what he needed was the serenity of this false illusion of stillness that he now found in his solitude. He closed his eyes, willing his mind to relax and his nerves to calm.
"There is almost a hush from the sky today." Thranduil seated himself by Glorfindel, rousing the meditating other from his thoughts.
"A hush?" Glorfindel could still feel his ears bleeding from the morning's meeting, and his heart and mind were still heavy with worry. The dangerous fractions of their alliance would mean disaster in the end.
"If you find that this day is too still for your liking there is a battle raging within the command tent right now." Glorfindel shook his head. "Come to think of it Thranduil, why were you not there for this meeting? The scouts delivered their reports and now our leaders debate the final battle plans."
Glorfindel studied his friend whose deep green eyes seemed to frown. They looked tired, stormy even, as if they still reflected a distant love for him, longing even, like the snow covered fields that yearns for the warm sun of spring. Maybe he was just projecting his own longing for Thranduil that still threatened to surface every time he was near him. At any rate, he dispelled the thoughts from his mind, knowing that he needed to focus on far more important matters.
"What possibly could I bring to the discussion? Oropher will not listen to me. I sat in on our pre-war councils and my words were only met with indifference. I've given up that fight. My father does not need to lose more allies. I should really be the last person who questions or fights with him."
"But you know that he plans such madness, Thranduil! You should have heard his stubborn words. He will not listen to reason, and would put the whole armies of the alliance needlessly at risk. Although he agrees that laying in wait has merit, he now is insisting that we attack on the morrow. I see his true intentions. Even if Gil-galad does meet him in the morning for the march to war, Oropher will not cooperate in a unified attack. He puts his people needlessly in risk."
Thranduil closed his eyes, reflecting on Glorfindel's words. He knew that his father would act alone, even if the alliance did not agree to action soon. The waiting was over for the Greenwood. Now was their time to act.
The words from Curumil returned to his mind. There would be death and pain untold with the march to battle, but Thranduil again reminded himself that the fight would preserve their freedom. The choice to chose not to march would only led to Sauron's total control over them.
March, he had been told, for there was not a single person who was worth the shedding of tears for. The words and the message had been cold. The reason behind those words held such truth however. Their sacrifices would be worth the freedoms of their people. The lives of many superseded the lives of a few. He knew his father's stance and even understood the reason behind the sense of urgency, but still he feared the consequences.
Thranduil had also heard Gil-galad's plans, but he little believed that the High-King had all the answers. Both his father's and Gil-galad's plans had flaws and would lead to grief and heartache. He remembered his thoughts from so long ago, and he shuddered. The road to victory had to pass through the valley of death. He just wondered how many of their people would perish in this struggle. If only the two factions could work together, but compromise was not his father's style, and from what Thranduil remembered of the High-King, Gil-galad was hard to sway once his mind was set on an action. The two sides would never work together. There was simply nothing that he could do.
“This is all madness, Glorfindel.” Thranduil finally sighed, turning his gaze back to his friend. “But even in this madness, I can not defy my King. My place is to serve his will, just as you do for your king.”
Glorfindel could only shake his head. “Oropher's stubbornness will be his own downfall. You do not have to join him. Thranduil, please, you must find a way to dissuade him for the sake of your people!”
“Dissuade him? Please tell me Glorfindel, how am I to do this? He is resolved to never march under the command of Gil-galad, and he will lead his army as he thinks is best. The Greenwood is his to command alone, and no one else has a say in that. Not even I can stop what he has set in motion. The people are loyal to him and will not listen to me. And I am one of them. I will march under his command.”
“Do you even hear the words that you are saying? Thranduil, you must stop this madness.”
Thranduil snapped a little in his response to Glorfindel. “Do you believe that a divide within the Greenwood's forces will resolve anything? He may be my father, but Oropher is my King, and I have sworn an allegiance to him. No matter the plan, there will be death. War will come. What matters if it is tomorrow or week from now? In the end, death will find us all.”
Glorfindel could see the turmoil within Thranduil's eyes, and his heart broke for his friend. He knew the battle that Thranduil fought, having lived through times of strife where every decision that was made had been beyond difficult. He had lost his life before, sacrificing himself so that others could live. And now faced with the reality that was before them, he felt an anger and helplessness rise within him. Thranduil was right. The sacrifices that they had to make were necessary. The preservation of their people's freedoms mattered more than their own lives.
“I am sorry, my friend. I did not mean to bring more apprehension to the realities of our predicament. We are in this together, and I will still hope that before this day is over that reason will have won.”
“If not reason, at least an agreed upon solution.” Thranduil smiled. “Even if we attack tomorrow I will feel better if both Gil-galad and Oropher have reached an agreement to cooperate. I know my father will not follow Gil-galad's command, but if they fight side by side, I know that our might will overcome the vile of Sauron's forces.”
“I just hope that Oropher will listen to reason for once in his life and agree to wait at least one more day.”
Thranduil laughed in response and Glorfindel found himself laughing too, as they both gave into the exhaustion of their worry.
“I do not look to hope for such a resolution, my friend. But what ever has been decided in the end, please know that our aim aligns with yours. I will try to do what I can to try to persuade Oropher to see Gil-galad's reason.”
“I wish you luck, my friend.” Glorfindel rose, mirroring Thranduil's action.
A simple nod of understanding and of taking his leave came from Thranduil. Glorfindel watched him depart into the camp, before he turned his eyes back on that distant horizon where Mordor lay.
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Back in the camp of the Noldor, it did not take Glorfindel long to learn of the outcome of the meeting between Oropher and Gil-galad. Elrond had invited him to his tent to dine with him and was discussing the details of what had transpired with him.
“Gil-galad believes that Oropher and the Silven armies will not go through with what they say.” Elrond explained between bites of his dinner.
“What do you mean? Does Gil-galad really think that Oropher bluffs?” Glorfindel stared at Elrond in disbelief.
“He does. After Oropher left, we debated in great length what his words really meant. Oropher understands the situation that we are in. Now that we know the true might of Sauron's forces, he understands that more time is needed for the final revision of our battle plans. Our preparations are not quite finalized and we make haste as best we can. Like Oropher, we agree that the time for wait has ended. But that time is just not yet.”
“Do we just let them march to the very Gates of Mordor alone, without our support?”
Elrond shook his head. “We will not march with them at all. How asinine would Oropher be to march the might of Greenwood and Lothlorien without the rest of the Alliance? It is pure and simple madness. Oropher will never do it. The point of Oropher's words today was just to assert his will into the action plans of Gil-galad. Our King has listened. In the end, Oropher achieved what he wanted which was a plan of quicker action. He does not need to march tomorrow.”
“He means what he says.” Glorfindel responded. “He will march out with his armies tomorrow.”
“No.” Elrond shook his head. “Oropher is bluffing to just speed along our strategies. Gil-galad agreed that we will act sooner than what we were planning to do. This was communicated with Oropher.”
“And what if they go? What do we do then?”
“Surely they would not.” Elrond put his glass down and looked into his friend's eyes. “Glorfindel, tell me that you do not truly believe Oropher's bluffs. Does his madness really know no end?”
“The Greenwood moves ever on its own accord.” Glorfindel responded, recalling Thranduil's words from years ago. He felt a sting in his heart and a panic rise in the pit of his stomach.
“I spoke with Thranduil today and I saw it in his eyes. The Greenwood will march to war tomorrow. This is no bluff. We must march too to reinforce our allies.” Glorfindel rushed out of Elrond's tent.
Elrond stood watching Glorfindel go before he followed along. Both entered into Gil-galad's tent. The High-King was eating his own dinner alone within his tent. His grey eye's looked up to them, sternly in his surprise.
“Glorfindel, you were missed at the conclusion of our meeting today. I was wondering when you would find yourself at my side to learn of what we had achieved today.”
“Gil-galad, you know that Oropher has vowed to march as an independent army. But even so, the Greenwood and Lothlorien are a part of this alliance and as such we should march with them to reinforce them.”
“Oropher will not march tomorrow.” Gil-galad stopped eating his dinner and rose, walking over to both Glorfindel and Elrond. “We delivered the news of the scouts to both Oropher and Amdir. Oropher knows the vast might that waits for us behind those gates. He understands that we must build up and reinforce our ramparts before we even attempt an assault. It would be folly for us to have no support to fall back behind in the event that the tide turns against us. I have everyone who possibly can working on this project as we speak, while our smithies are working non-stop on weaponry preparation. The last thing that I will do is send out my people to a battle that we are not tactically ready for just because the King of the Greenwood would play our hand before we are ready. If I send my troops to march at the crack of dawn like he is calling for, I can not guarantee a victory. That is something that I will never do.” Gil-galad grasped his hands into tight fists, annoyance and anger evident regarding the discussion of Oropher.
His deep and strong eyes gazed at Glorfindel as he studied the face of his general. Gil-galad could see the concern in Glorfindel's eyes, and he exhaled slowly before he began speaking again.
“I dare not encourage Oropher's armies to march tomorrow. If we show up to meet them in this madness, then surely they will march. But if we do not, they will not march without our support. Oropher has lived through wars and knows the art of strategy. Like a spoiled child he has made his point, and I have listened. I have agreed to move the day of our attack forward. But tomorrow is not that day. Oropher understands this.”
“No.” Glorfindel shook his head, demanding that Gil-galad reconsider his conclusion. “Oropher means what he says. If we do not support him, we must stop him!”
“Stop him?” Gil-galad's voice rose in ever more annoyance. “Oropher's and Amdir's armies are sovereign, and are theirs alone to command. Neither has pledged their support of my command. I can not impose my will on them. To do so would forever divide the Eldar, and that is something that I will not be responsible for. We can use this alliance to bring us together, and not to tear us further asunder.” Gil-galad stopped speaking, and he moved back to his dinner table to take a long drink from his wine goblet.
“Oropher's threats are empty Glorfindel. He knows that we will not go to war tomorrow. He has had his victory, for I have allowed his insanity to influence my strategy. That should be enough for him.”
“But what if the Silvan armies attack tomorrow. What then?” Glorfindel asked.
Gil-galad paused as he saw the genuine concern in Glorfindel's eyes that would not subside. “You truly believe that Oropher will lead his troops on the Black Gates tomorrow?” Gil-galad asked.
He watched as Glorfindel nodded. Sighing he responded. “If he does, then I have no choice but to send my troops to reinforce his. Everyone who is part of this alliance will do the same. But let us hope that it does not come to this, because there is not one army that is ready for battle tomorrow. Our enemy is giving us this precious time to fortify ourselves and to finalize what we need to do before we march on them. We should not give them the advantage of a disorganized and poorly planned assault.”
“This is all fine to say to me, for I agree with what you say. But Oropher does not. He will act tomorrow, my heart doubts this not.”
Glorfindel turned from Gil-galad, taking his leave without another word. Night had already settled on the plains, but the armies had not settled. Instead, they worked in a fevered rush, preparing themselves for the march on Mordor. Glorfindel watched his own troops who busied themselves with their preparations, and he understood that they needed more time. With angry eyes he looked to the camps of the Greenwood, wondering if Thranduil had been able to win his debate with his father. For the sake of the Greenwood, Glorfindel hoped with all of his heart that Thranduil had.
He would find out in the morning, when dawn would break. Until then, Glorfindel retreated back to his tent, where he hopped that slumber would find him.
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not beta read / to be continued
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Shelter From the Storm