Hello gang!
Thank you to everyone sticking with me on this. I promised a slow burn narrative, not aslow-posting, hahaha. I have a few chapters ready to put up, I am just pacing them. I am also committed to the conclusion of this fic. It's just that - LIFE! I mean it's been good, but busy busy good. And after this is finished I might need to be absent for a time again (hopefully not as long as the last time!). Between working and the fanfictional vice, haha, my own original fiction has been taking a backseat and I know that as much as we are fans of something, we should also be building things and find a balance. Anyways that is a decision for when this fic is finished :) For now - I would just like to say, thank you kind reviewers. You power me through. Please continue to feed the writer with whatever you can; constructive c&cs are always welcome and they help me be better. If you can't review, that is okay too :) I just hope everyone is enjoying the rearing as much as I am enjoying the writing :) Best wishes all, and without further ado:
# # #
13: The Gathering Storm
# # #
Eryn Galen, T.A. 2851
# # #
Legolas sensed them first; he stiffened and backed away from Glorfindel, and looked down at the thick leaves in anticipation of the new arrivals he had heard coming up.
"What is so great up here that two of Arda's most golden creatures should risk life and limb and climb so high for it?"
It was Silon who asked as he emerged from the canopy of leaves, though in poorly executed faux humor. His eyes had taken on a pleading, uncertain, desperation – it was clear that he had his suspicions about what was going on up in the tree, just as it was clear he harbored hopes he was wrong. Glorfindel almost winced in sympathy and perhaps... apology.
Admire is a small word, Silon had told him of his own feelings for the prince. Admire is a small word...
Captain Tauriel's pretty red head popped up next, with her sharp, intelligent gaze trained suspiciously on the unhappy lot of all of them. Glorfindel thought back then, to how adverse Legolas had been to her inclusion in their traveling party. Duty had something to do with it of course, but he wondered now, if Legolas had any inkling something like this would happen too – that he would be in the company of Silon who loved him, Glorfindel whom he apparently lo-valued, and Tauriel with whom he had whatever nameless thing it was that hovered between them.
"Well?" she prodded her prince, "have you an answer for Silon, Legolas? What is so great up here?"
The blond wood-elf jerked his head in the direction of the haloed setting sun, and the wispy clouds Glorfindel had previously adored. "Look for yourself."
The two wood-elf soldiers winced and said with displeasure, almost in unison – "That is a gathering storm."
# # #
It was a short road to their destination at the northernmost outpost of Eryn Galen, but with non-combatants and convalescents, Tauriel kept a conservative pace.
After a shared meal followed a few hours of rest, on a rotation where predictably, Tauriel assigned first watch to herself. Glorfindel's second-in-command, Istor, also predictably volunteered himself to join her. The ancient warlord supposed it was both so that he could watch over Glorfindel, as well as keep the fetching commander he was besotted with company. Neither Glorfindel nor Legolas were placed on the roster.
Legolas' fine features were pinched at the thought that he was considered in need of rest, but he bit back his tongue with a pointed look from Glorfindel. It was a reminder of the promise of compliance they had made to each other, to keep to Tauriel's chain of command.
"If you can suffer it gladly," Legolas said to Glorfindel under his breath, "I suppose I can do the same."
Glorfindel smirked, but said nothing as he prepared to rest in his sleeping sack.
The traveling party had a small fire in a neat pit and were organized around it, though Legolas settled farther off, all but snuggling up to the closest tree. Glorfindel didn't know if it was a trick of the light, a wood-elf talent to find and squeeze into nature's nooks, or if that trunk somehow bent and curled around him... but that was sure how it looked like.
The younger blonde settled in, and he smiled at Glorfindel lazily before his eyes took on the vacant look of dreaming. He may not have thought he needed the rest, but his body perhaps knew better, and sleep claimed him quickly. His restful pose made for a gentle, warming sight.
Silon settled protectively beside him, but subserviently near his booted feet. He gave Glorfindel a hard look and a short nod of cold acknowledgement. Apparently, as easily as admiration for the prince won for Glorfindel loyal Silon's favor, Legolas' seeming return of that affection had won for him, the unrequitedly besotted Silon's disapproval.
# # #
The traveling party made multiple stops not only for rest and meals, but also for the sporadic releasing of the homing birds at varying distances. Garavon marked and cooed at each one, telling them to find their way home, back to his cottage in the stronghold where another apprentice awaited their return.
The two Imladris elves, Istor and Glorfindel, watched his techniques carefully for application in their own home, while the Woodland elves either made camp, kept watch, discussed the progress of their trip, or looked on at what Garavon was doing.
On one stop, Tauriel was one of the latter and her intelligent eyes devoured the proceedings with innate curiosity.
"What is the rate at which these birds can successfully find their way home?" she asked.
"Well," said Garavon, "the closer we are to the stronghold, the higher they are likely to succeed of course. The farther we go, the likelihood drops. Aside from training the birds, that is also what we are determining here. If I have that information, I would know how many birds to bring, how much loss we can live with."
"What happens to the birds who don't get home?" asked Silon.
Garavon sighed. "Some of them take longer than others but eventually find their way. Others roam. Others die."
Garavon ended that particular stop's release on the somber note, saddened now by the reminder that while he was doing something important for his kingdom, he was also meant to lose some of his beloved birds in the process.
Perceptive Tauriel decided to set camp early then, while the sensitive Silon and rambunctious Renior took Garavon in hand with a few jokes and Rossenith prepared a hearty meal, recruiting Istor and the gamekeeper's apprentices for water and fire. Naturally, no one instructed the two ranking officers into anything.
Legolas watched his people quietly, with a grim satisfaction that as tough as the situation was, everyone was doing their jobs and looking after each other properly.
Glorfindel, on the other hand, watched Legolas. He wasn't surprised when the prince turned to him and asked again:
"Would you come up with me?"
# # #
Glorfindel climbed with Legolas at the rear in case he fell. But the truth was, Glorfindel had always been a quick study and now found the physical task easy. It was the mental task of coming up there with Legolas that had become harder.
He did not bother to ask, What will I find up there? this time. He suspected Legolas did not know himself. Were they to have some kind of philosophical existential discussion about the gods and war and life and death? Were they to debate the merits of mercy killing? Were they to fall into silence looking at the view? Were they to flirt, to fight?
Other than the stars and the skies, other than the stars and the skies... who knew what the heck was up there?
But the truth was, Glorfindel wanted Legolas' company. He was not sure what that entailed and what it meant, but at the barest bones of his innumerable, unspeakable uncertainties, this he knew for sure: he wanted Legolas' company. For all of its complications and simplicities, that was all that he wanted.
They broke through the top. They settled in the branches. They sat side by side. Their shoulders touched. The tips of their golden hair teased at each other and some strands, whipped by a gentle wind, tangled.
This time around, they had a view of the Woodland at midmorning. It was flatter at this time of the day - whiter, less shadows. It was never Glorfindel's favorite time of the day for this reason, but in this naked light, the plain splendor of Legolas' home was revelatory in itself. How large and rich it was, how vast, how daunting.
"Yours is a beautiful home, Legolas."
The other elf smiled, wide and naked and generous. But not at Glorfindel, no. It was an expression reserved for the sublime view before them. A dimple winked at his chiseled cheek, the corners of his eyes crinkled, and Glorfindel was almost jealous of the Woodland, for it knew what it felt like to be the beneficiary of that singular expression.
"It is, isn't it?" Legolas murmured, contentedly.
"I wonder how it all looks like in the dawn," said Glorfindel. "That I think, is my favorite time of day."
Legolas turned to face him with a look of curiosity. "Most people prefer sunsets, I thought you might."
Glorfindel wondered if that was why it was what he was shown first yesterday, but before he could come to any real or meaningful conclusions, Legolas said with grim determination:
"I will make arrangements. I will fetch you the dawn."
# # #
Ever efficient and objectives-oriented, the Woodland Prince fulfilled his promise come the very next morning.
The pair of golden elves were not given a night watch again, though this time Legolas did not seem to mind; he and Glorfindel owned their time. What Legolas did with his was to rise early and stir Glorfindel up into a gentle waking.
Glorfindel first settled dream-glazed eyes at the disruptor of his sleep, but the empty gaze filled with alertness quickly. Legolas' silhouette sharpened, his visage became clearer and more defined, and Glorfindel found himself smiling at being woken by this sight.
Oblivious, the prince pulled him to his feet. Glorfindel rose from his sleeping sack, and let himself be taken to the base of a thick tree.
They passed Istor, who was on a scheduled watch. Glorfindel's second-in-command looked at them worriedly, and Glorfindel could hardly blame him. Istor was at least as perceptive as the other soldiers in their traveling party, and likely sensed something was afoot between Legolas and the Imladrian warlord too.
All of this was, Glorfindel had to admit, uncharacteristic. Since his return to Arda he'd mostly lost his appetite for romance, and though he'd had a lover here and there, his interactions with them were minimal, discreet, short-lived and non-committal. This was also unlike him because he had a job to do here, and was keenly aware that he could potentially jeopardize their relations with the mercurial, unpredictable Thranduil by dallying with his beloved son.
Glorfindel gave Istor a vague nod of acknowledgement, which his second-in-command returned with a hesitant but compliant one. Again, Glorfindel could not blame the other elf; even he did not know what reassurances he was providing. Either way, for now at least, Istor was satisfied and turned away from the pair to focus on his watch.
As they did hours before, the two golden elves climbed the tree with Glorfindel ahead and Legolas following protectively at the rear.
They broke through the top. They settled in the branches. They sat side by side. Their shoulders touched. The tips of their golden hair teased at each other and some strands, whipped by a gentle wind, tangled...
Glorfindel looked out at the breathtaking view of daylight creeping into the vast, boundless sky. The moon and stars were still out, hanging on a high layer of black slowly brightening to deep blue. There was a brilliant orange gold light bisecting the heavens, gradually widening. It grew larger, crept upward and outward until the last refuge of night turned lighter, and the brilliance of the sun obscured the moon and the stars.
Glorfindel sighed contentedly.
"I should have known you would prefer the sunrise," Legolas said quietly, "it goes with all this hoping of yours."
You are the dawn, Glorfindel thought.
"Are there other permutations of times of day I can fetch for you?" Legolas asked, only half-jesting.
Glorfindel cleared his throat. "Thank you for this, Legolas. It is... it is breathtaking. How can I possibly ask for more?"
Legolas looked at him, expression soft with gratitude for the other's genuine appreciation of his home. Together, they watched the sun rise for a long, quiet moment.
When it was high in the sky, Legolas spoke.
"I've been missing your company, I think," he said with a small, nervous laugh. "I suspect I've become accustomed to having you all to myself at some point of the day."
"Like an unhealthy habit," Glorfindel quipped.
Legolas' lips quirked. "That... remains to be seen."
They fell to companionable silence, but again after voicing his affection, Legolas physically and mentally backed away. Glorfindel could swear he felt it, the moment when the final strand of the fabric of the other elf's sleeve pulled away from where it touched his. He imagined the tiny pinprick heads of thread parting.
"Why do you do that?" he asked.
"I beg your pardon?"
Glorfindel hesitated. Do what? What exactly was the other elf doing anyway? 'Nevermind' was on the tip of his tongue, but Legolas had turned earnest eyes on him then, seemingly begging for some release of the yet-nameless thing that has been hovering over them since Glorfindel realized he was lo-valued here.
"You tell me these things and then slip away," Glorfindel replied with narrowed eyes. He found he was suddenly, slightly inexplicably annoyed. He never participated much in courtly games and when he did he only marginally enjoyed them – but that was back when he was younger, and when he was better at it.
"You say my feet do not touch the ground," Glorfindel said, "yet I cannot fly past your walls. You miss my company but you pull away from it. You... you..."
Legolas' ivory cheeks turned rosy, to Glorfindel's disarmed surprise.
"Well," replied the prince, "when you praise someone, as in the case when you pray to your gods... you say your piece and then leave it to their mercies, do you not? What right have I to wait and expect anything from you?"
"I am not worthy of anyone's praises," said Glorfindel, "and I am hardly a god. And... and if I may say, you certainly have a right to expect anything you want from me. Anything. But what is it that you do want?"
Legolas' brows furrowed in confusion. "I..."
Glorfindel laughed at himself in embarrassment, and ran a hand over his face. "What? What, Legolas? What are you doing and what do you want?"
"I did not expect this conversation to get this far," murmured the other, "Let me think."
Glorfindel let out a frustrated sigh. "You... you make me feel..."
"Confused?" Legolas supplied, "Impatient? Angry?"
Glorfindel was all these things and more. All these things but more. Legolas made him feel conflicted about his mission - and desires - here. Legolas made him feel worried about their world and their place within it. Legolas made him feel desirous but unworthy of earnest, open affection. Legolas made him feel adrift, uncertain as he hasn't been for a long time. Legolas made him feel longing.
Legolas made him feel un-whole, with a space in his heart slowly being carved in the shape and likeness of someone they both knew, a space that would sit empty until it is filled by that one, specific shape. But the carving was unfinished. It was beginning to look like Legolas, but it was a work in progress.
"You make me feel," Glorfindel decided.
The other elf bit his lower lip and chewed at it in thinly veiled pleasure.
"But you also make me think," Glorfindel pointed out.
"Ah well there is that," Legolas conceded with weary humor.
After all, thought Glorfindel, if this bleeding, broken prince does not understand duty and priorities, who can?
Legolas took a deep breath. "All right. How may I divest thee of some of these burdens?"
"I am too old to play games and so I prefer we say the things we mean and we mean the things we say," Glorfindel said.
"You are ageless," Legolas corrected him. "But I prefer this course of action myself."
"What do you hope to achieve when you bring me here?" Glorfindel asked bluntly, "saying the things you do?"
"I enjoy your company – for all that it means."
"And all that it doesn't," Glorfindel pointed out. "Does it mean nothing or does it mean everything?"
"Am I toying with you or am I marrying you?" Legolas asked with a small, surprised laugh. He smothered it for Glorfindel's apparent irritation, but his eyes crinkled in warm amusement. "I do not toy, and I cannot marry. In the meantime, am I supposed to be – and I mean this physically and otherwise - abstinent?"
"You cannot marry?"
"Living as I do, would you?"
Glorfindel frowned in thought but agreed wordlessly on this rather sad fact – with the world as dark as it was, Legolas feared marrying meant the creation of a widow rather than the maintenance of a wife. Glorfindel asked instead, "You want my company and that is all?" Strangely enough, it had echoed his own thoughts.
"For now," Legolas said wryly.
"You were not..." as much in need? as forward and unrestrained? "You were not like this in your father's halls," Glorfindel told him.
"Wasn't I?" asked Legolas, making Glorfindel think.
You are able to find joy in many things, Legolas had told him once, A quality I certainly admire...
In another instance, when Legolas had been drunk and Silon told him they found shelter in Glorfindel's rooms, he smiled and teased: There are certainly worse places to be.
And most notably, I've come to care for you – greatly - in the time you've been here...
"If I am more brazen now I cannot tell," Legolas said with an easy laugh. "But I have been told - the woods make me free and fey."
The leaves around them seemed to stir and bristle in agreement.
"At any rate I had no cause to miss one whose company I could solely claim at least at one point of every day," Legolas said with a wistful smile. "A minute or so walking you to your rooms and it brings not only joy in the moment, but something to look forward to all the day through. All it took was minute or so... and you did not even know."
Glorfindel's heart pounded in his chest, so loudly he would be surprised if Legolas beside him couldn't feel it.
"You are too used to admiration I think," Legolas said grimly, to Glorfindel's chagrin. Was that really why he had suspected nothing, or dismissed the possibility of Legolas' earnest attentions? "You are also busy with your divine missions to bother with the likes of me."
"The likes of you..." Glorfindel murmured.
He could admit he suffered admiration casually because his history subjected him frequently to the esteem of many elves. But the slight Legolas was making against his own worth was something Glorfindel could not let pass.
"But I am out of my league with you," Glorfindel told him.
"That is what I am saying," Legolas agreed with a small nod. "You are an ancient lord favored by the gods, golden in every imaginable way. I am only a soiled, wood-elf archer-"
"That you are the skilled and dutiful prince of a magnificent land," Glorfindel said, "That you are the fairest I have ever seen of our kin... all of this is nothing compared to the barest light of your soul. Do you understand what I am trying to say, Legolas? You carry with ease that which would make anyone lesser exceptional, for these are only the least of you. You say my feet do not touch the ground? You may be right but that is only because I am on my knees. I am out of my league with you."
Legolas stared at him with stricken blue eyes, a gaze of desperate fear and more desperate hope that Glorfindel held, even as he wondered if he himself looked the same.
He had previously felt that they were at the edge of a cliff, and now they've jumped. It remains to be seen how they would land. From these heights, the only possible outcomes were gory messes or miraculous, cushioned landings. Glorfindel prayed for a miracle.
I pray for you, he thought.
I pray for you, he realized.
Even if the words were the same the structure of the sentence was different, dramatically altering its meaning. The first meant he prayed on behalf of the welfare of the other. The second... well. The second crystalized to Glorfindel what more – or, who - he wanted from the gods, didn't it?
Legolas licked at his full lips, and he sounded breathless when he spoke. "I must admit, I did not know this conversation would go this way."
"Neither did I," Glorfindel admitted. "But here we are, now what do we do?"
Legolas' sparkling eyes teased. "I should defer to my elder for such things, I think."
"I am ageless," Glorfindel told him wryly, "Or so I've been told."
Legolas smiled at him and sighed. It was a good feeling to admire and be admired in return, Glorfindel knew. But the two of them were also inextricably who they were, with all the complexities attached.
"Romancing the prince will not jeopardize your diplomatic efforts with aran-nin if you worry about that," Legolas opened. "He can be very surprisingly objective. And when he isn't, that is why the Elvenking is wise to keep councilors and listen to them."
Glorfindel accepted this with a nod. They both knew, their work and duties almost always had to go first.
"I also must say I cannot promise you anything," Glorfindel confessed. "My time in your home is fleeting, and the work yet to be done will take precedence above all."
"I concur," Legolas said, "And my situation is the same."
Glorfindel nodded again. "Which brings me to a related concern. I am worried that I have nothing to promise you, but at the same time my presence jeopardizes your... potential relations with more viable and sustainable partners. Surely you must know – we hurt other people whenever we are here."
Legolas winced, slightly. "You speak of Tauriel. And... Silon."
Glorfindel found the stomach to joke, "Oh? I thought Renior."
Legolas' lip quirked, but he did not laugh. "They will hurt either way, I'm afraid. Until the darkness is defeated, there are no viable mates for me in the Woodland. My position necessitates I send the best warriors to the worst fronts, as needed by the kingdom. Tauriel and Silon are amongst our best, and I refuse to put myself in the untenable position of either sidelining a fine soldier at risk to the kingdom to spare my heart, or possibly assigning them to their deaths. I might lose my mind either way, I think."
"So a lesser soldier would have a better chance at marrying the ernil?" Glorfindel teased gently, for Legolas' voice trembled even the barest thought of the options he had outlined.
The other's anxiety died down and he quipped,
"Why do you think I've acquired a liking for you?"
Glorfindel laughed.
Legolas smiled at him indulgently, and reached for the tips of Glorfindel's hair at the neck, near again the collarbone he was strangely fixated with.
"And so it is agreed," he murmured. "Duties come first and there are no promises."
"All I want is your company," Glorfindel said.
"A little bit of you all to myself everyday," Legolas added earnestly, "Anytime I can steal it."
They grinned at each other in agreement, and quietly turned to the bright Woodland morning spread wide before them.
After a long, wordless moment filled with each of their respective thoughts, Legolas murmured, "All time nowadays seems stolen anyway."
TO BE CONTINUED...
'Til the next post!