House of the Golden Flower
folder
+First Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
48
Views:
3,871
Reviews:
54
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+First Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
48
Views:
3,871
Reviews:
54
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part III; Chapter Two
The battle was two and a half years behind us when we got news of the outside world once more.
After the retreat from the fight, the sons of Feanor fled many ways, and many peoples fled to Doriath, and to the Havens. Morgoth sent forth his orcs after them, and ravaged all within their reach. The Havens also were laid in ruin, and the people of Cirdan were slain or enslaved, but many escaped by ship to the Isle of Balar and rebuilt for themselves security.
Now, when Turgon heard this, he became concerned, and gathered up seven men, volunteers only, in secret, from the noble houses. None from my House went, but those chosen he sent to Cirdan after a letter by messenger, and on seven light, fast ships sent them out onto the sea into the West. He had done this once before, I learned, long ago; before his father's death. None had ever returned, and no word ever came of them again.
It was twenty one years before we became involved with the world once more.
And during that time, Gondolin slumbered in the state that she was in, and for a long time, things were much the same as before our leaving, but for the wounds taken that yet healed, and mourning songs still sung.
Turgon's dreams began again, and preceeded the events to follow later. His manners also grew strange; he would wander awake by night through his city, running his hands over the smooth stone, sitting in his gardens to watch the doves sleep. And I feared for him, because this was what elves in mourning did when they faded away to nothing. They grew fond of life like an old creature dying, and wasted, wraithlike, niether sleeping nor eating, until peace came to them at last.
I feared for him.
After the retreat from the fight, the sons of Feanor fled many ways, and many peoples fled to Doriath, and to the Havens. Morgoth sent forth his orcs after them, and ravaged all within their reach. The Havens also were laid in ruin, and the people of Cirdan were slain or enslaved, but many escaped by ship to the Isle of Balar and rebuilt for themselves security.
Now, when Turgon heard this, he became concerned, and gathered up seven men, volunteers only, in secret, from the noble houses. None from my House went, but those chosen he sent to Cirdan after a letter by messenger, and on seven light, fast ships sent them out onto the sea into the West. He had done this once before, I learned, long ago; before his father's death. None had ever returned, and no word ever came of them again.
It was twenty one years before we became involved with the world once more.
And during that time, Gondolin slumbered in the state that she was in, and for a long time, things were much the same as before our leaving, but for the wounds taken that yet healed, and mourning songs still sung.
Turgon's dreams began again, and preceeded the events to follow later. His manners also grew strange; he would wander awake by night through his city, running his hands over the smooth stone, sitting in his gardens to watch the doves sleep. And I feared for him, because this was what elves in mourning did when they faded away to nothing. They grew fond of life like an old creature dying, and wasted, wraithlike, niether sleeping nor eating, until peace came to them at last.
I feared for him.