Liquid Diamonds | By : redkiwi Category: +Second Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1747 -:- 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. |
Surrender, this is where Glorfindel now found himself, running his fingers through silver silken strands, kissing full luscious lips, staring into deep emerald eyes full of such passion and desire. Such madness…..
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(Imladris: Second Age. A few years before the call for alliance.)
"Glorfindel." Elrond beseeched him, but his stern gaze conveyed this request was not open to debate. "You shall depart at the crack of dawn for the great forest Kingdom. Gil-galad is requesting this plan be carried through with King Oropher's realm, for the time may come when we will need to call on the elves of Greenwood."
'Greenwood. King Oropher.' Glorfindel pondered the words and the task that Elrond had spent the better part of the morning discussing with his counsellors, surprised it was he whom Elrond called upon to deliver the messages and request a closer alliance with King Oropher.
"But would not counsellor Erestor be a better choice for this request?" Glorfindel could feel Erestor's grey eyes burning on him, as if the distant counsellor was annoyed that it was he who had been called on for this task instead of him. But if that were the case, Erestor remained silent, not protesting or questioning the choice that Gil-galad had made.
"Our High-King has requested you, Glorfindel, to make the journey to Greenwood and meet with King Oropher." Elrond's bright eyes seemed to brim with encouragement to the unsure Glorfindel.
"Of course. I will heed Gil-galad's wishes and deliver his request of alliance to Greenwood." Glorfindel's brows narrowed, as he turned the request over in his mind, still perplexed that it was him whom they called on.
"Good. The necessary documents and letters will be delivered to your chambers within the hour. Please make haste and pack. Get your rest, for the journey will be far." Elrond then turned from Glorfindel to continue discussing the preparations with Erestor, leaving Glorfindel alone to ponder.
"I have never meet King Oropher or been to the Greenwood before." Glorfindel expressed his misgivings aloud. He knew little of Oropher who distanced himself from the other realms. On his return to Middle-Earth, Erestor and Elrond had told him of the new elven realms forged after all the blood-shed of the First Age. How some time after the fall of Doriath and residing in Lindon, Oropher had decided to move his household over the Misty Mountains and had been taken as a king over the Silvan elves deep in the heart of that great forest.
"We all have faith in your ability to see this through. Be persistent. The elves of Greenwood are wary of outsiders, even of the elvish variety." Elrond clearly deemed it best not to state anything more to Glorfindel. And Glorfindel thought that it would be better to go without any preconceived biases towards Oropher.
Nothing more was said after that, just reassuring looks from his cohorts that wished him luck and safety on his journey across the mountains and forests.
And then he was off. Dawn broke after a sleepless night during which restful dreams did not find him. He left the gates of Imladris, not weary but driven by his love of challenge, and an enthusiasm for adventure. Elrond had seen him off at the crack of dawn, providing a few more details to help him. Not much had been said about Oropher or his realm, just a little about his Thranduil. Elrond mentioned he should find an ally in Thranduil. He knew not what to expect or what challenges would present themselves when he finally would meet Oropher.
The day was not overly welcoming. A heavy fog refused to dissipate from the earth, enveloping the forest that would soon give way to the rocky plains that stood at the edge of the Misty Mountains.
And once the fog had cleared, he was greeted by a sky dark with thick clouds of grey billowy masses with soaring heads that stubbornly refused to let the sun break through. Glorfindel wondered if rain would come, as the metallic aroma of it filled his senses. But despite the threat of the angry clouds, there was no downpour, much to his relief. He didn't want the hindrance of rain, as he hoped to cover as much distance as he could, pressing ever eastward towards the realm of Greenwood the Great.
A persistent wind came from the north-east and stung at his face and ears as he rode. He pulled his hooded cloak around his frame tighter, riding hard to put as much distance between Imladris and himself as he could. The road was still vast before him and contained many dangers. He knew to stay vigilant while ever pressing forward.
When finally the day was some hours old, he paused for a midday meal, letting his horse take water. Glorfindel surveyed the lands, knowing that his path would take him over the mountains, which would be slow and treacherous. But he was skilled in travel and trod with a light foot.
When the night descended on him, he made camp, letting his steed rest although he needed none. As he lay under the starless night sky, shrouded still by dark clouds, he tried to picture the forest he would travel to. He wondered what the ancient and reclusive elves that lived there were like. He wondered what songs they sang, what ancient spirit moved them and kept them steadfast within their distant forest. He tried to picture Oropher, with all his mithril hair and obstinate face and wondered just how weary his soul was with all the death and bloodshed of the First Age. But with what little he knew of Oropher, his mind drew nothing but a blank.
He continued to let his mind go through his deepest memories, trying to recall the ancient Doriathrin tongue of King Thingol's realm, wondering if Oropher still spoke those words, or communicated only in the tongue of his Silvan subjects. It was an ancient tongue, predating Sindarin and mostly forgotten except for those of the Avari, who dwelt deep in the heart of their distant forest.
'Such a mystery awaits me.' He spun the questions in his mind, until finally sleep called to Glorfindel, who despite all his thoughts, now felt the tug of weariness pulling him deep into its folds.
He dreamt of an arcane forest. He was standing in it naked as the day he was born. His long hair dripped with cool water. Droplets like rain fell to the mossy earth below, echoing like shards of crystal ringing through the air. He did not feel uncomfortable, but instead felt his spirit soar free, deep into the forest, far past giant trees and mountains upon mountains. And he was running; his bare feet glided over the moss and leaf covered forest floor, dashing after someone that danced just ahead of him in a stream of silver silk.
Greenwood was calling to him. He could hear the words of the trees echo through his mind, whispering to him with strange temptation. Bright green leaves shining forth like emeralds twinkled under the glow of Ithil's strong light, casting an eerie illumination that lit the forest in its
preternatural beauty. And in his dream he froze, seeing the emeralds blink between long elven lashes set in an alabaster face framed with mithril locks. The impression slowly faded with the darkening forest which the phantom belonged to, and his sleep became dreamless once more.
The morning broke, but Glorfindel was already well on his way when the rays of Anor had cut through the dawn. He had awoken from his dream feeling light and refreshed, eager to continue eastward, wondering just who had cast that dream into his mind. Did the Greenwood harbour dark magic? A conjurer of temptation? Glorfindel felt moved, wanting to discover the lull that the forest had shown him in his dream.
With great care he led his horse gently across the mountains, treading lightly, but still keeping good time. The Greenwood was beyond the Misty Mountains but Glorfindel knew that a great few days still stood between him and that realm. The new day was much more hospitable than the prior day, with a bright sun warming the land, and gentle clouds rolling across the sky in their slight dance above the earth. They painted long shadows down the mountain side that rolled down as silent waterfalls.
Glorfindel took all the sights in, watching from time to time the great birds that soared above him, the whispering breezes and soaring peaks that encompassed him. Arda was beautiful, this he could never deny. And he felt gratitude to the Valar who had allowed him to return back, although he was still unsure as to why he had been sent back to middle earth instead of the Undying Lands.
But the Valar always had a purpose, and who was he to question?
The second night, he found a small crevice in which to camp. The howl of the night wind was ruthless to his ears, and his horse did not want to take rest. With his gentle Elvish words, he soothed the beast to sleep, knowing that it needed rest this night. Glorfindel was not weary, and decided not to take sleep through the night. He kept his clear blue eyes alert, knowing that mountains could be ever treacherous. This journey was not without peril. Sauron's evil was alive in Arda, and everyone knew, traveling alone was a risky business.
For the remainder of his trip, Glorfindel took in the sights, while keeping his watch. He spoke to his horse, singing him songs he had learned from his days in Gondolin, ancient words that had been passed down from the journey to Aman and time spent with the exiles. And when he did not want to sing any longer, he constructed in his mind the words he would speak to Oropher, trying his best to rehearse exactly what he would say.
The days of his travel ebbed and flowed in a similar fashion, until his trip was finally exhausted. Glorfindel had finally found himself staring at the very cusp of Greenwood forest, whose expansive girth stretched as far as his eyes could see.
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Notes:
This story was posted here before under my old user name. The story is complete (has 15 chapters, but I am slowly adding the chapters back)
chapter 1 beta read by pippychick
The title of this story and the chapter titles are taken from the Tori Amos song, Liquid Diamonds.
Set during the 2nd age, before the war of the ring. Prequel to the Dance on Water. This story is A/U of course, I am not using exact dates and this deviates from canon significantly to fit the purpose of my story. The facts, dates and details are not meant to reflect canon with 100% accuracy.
In this alternate universe the elves of Greenwood still speak a dialect of Nandorin (Silvan) and have not yet switched over to Sindarin. I would believe, although a disappearing language, that Greenwood would be the very last realm to have speakers of it as it was dying out in the S.A. The Sindar in the realm converse amongst themselves in the Doriathrin dialect, since they came from that realm, and not so much the Greenwood Silvan. With Glorfindel they speak the standard Sindarin from the second-age. Galion and the Silvan elves who work closely with Oropher and the Sindar have learned the language of their King, however most business is conducted in the Silvan tongue of the Greenwood elves since Oropher's goal was to become as one with his people.
Dates in S.A.: 1697 Imladris was founded, and around that time the Greenwood Elves had moved to the western glens of the Emyn Duir from Amon Lanc. In the year 1701, the War of the Elves and Sauron ended. This story is set during the 2nd Age, after the War of the Elves and Sauron had ended, and after Glorfindel's return to middle earth, but of course before the Last Alliance was fought. I really did not pick an exact date for this story however, but wanted to give a general time-line for the S.A.
In the UT, it states that Oropher, in his wisdom, understood that no peace would come until Sauron was destroyed, and so gathered a great army together with Lothlorien to join the call of the alliance. Whether he came on this idea of his own accord or with convincing was not so much explicitly stated, so I am taking the liberty for this story to be with the later, that he needed convincing and hence this story.
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