Chapter Text
On a hill overlooking the great land of Imladris, sits the mighty elven High King Gil-galad. The early morning wind blows softly against his face as the sun begins to rise. He looks down, watching the grass beneath him gleam like never before as the sun shines down on Arda. He closes his eyes and looks to the sky. He feels the warmth of the sun and yet a cold chill of what is coming.
“The armies are ready High King”
He slowly opens his eyes and embraces what warmth he can before turning his head. There he sees Elrond, his captain. Herald. Friend.
“Sit.” He tells him, pointing to a patch of grass beside him.
He looks at Elrond, who has a focused look on his face. Gil-galad smiles.
“Are you ready,” he asks him
Elrond turns his gaze and replies, “No. But when it comes to war, who is?” as he turns back to face him.
“Are you ready, High King?”
“No.” Gil-galad says in a whispered tone before looking down then turning to face the sun.“But when the sun sets, I will be. I have to be.”
“How do you ‘be’ ready?” Elrond asks him. With genuine interest but also looking for an answer he could use himself.
“Well…you start by looking at everyone next to you and see them as one of your own. You look them in their eyes and you make a silent promise to protect them. As a King, you do your best for your people but in times of war, I cannot promise all of them that I will bring them back alive.” He looks back at Elrond, more serious with no trace of a smile that was there but a moment ago.
“So I will promise them hope. I will promise them that the sun will rise the next day if they are with me.”
He pauses, looking back on Imladris before continuing,
“Let those monsters come. Let them climb the wall of bodies that we will build before them. When it comes to my people, our people — I do one thing better than anyone. Not care about my enemy,” his voice grows stronger, “let them come in hundreds. Thousands. And every one of them will fall before my feet and the taste of Aeglos and the cold dirt will be the final thing they feel before oblivion takes them.”
Elrond looks in his eyes and sees a passion he’s not seen before. Gil-galad stares back. His voice softens and his eyes now relaxed.
“I will place myself before my people, always. For them, there will always be a wall to which Darkness will break. I am that wall. And walls don’t move. Because walls don’t care.”
They look down on Imladris once more before the horns blare. They look at each other and nod, both of them realizing what's next. Elrond grabs his sword and Gil-galad, Aeglos. Gil-galad is the first to stand and grabs his helmet. Elrond motions to remove his crown for him before Gil-galad’s hand stops it.
“No, no, it's alright,” he says.
Gil-galad removes his crown and places it on the rock beside him. He looks at Elrond as he picks up his helmet. The sun shines off the crown of the helmet in a shimmer so bright it could've been its own golden star. He puts it on and looks out to the morning sun once more, embracing its warmth.
“I believe it's time, Captain.” He turns and looks at Elrond who is standing behind him with his own helmet on and sword in hand.
“I believe it is, High King. What would you have me do first?” Elrond asks.
“Summon the banner men and bolster the walls. Sauron's forces should not arrive before nightfall but I want our forces ready by mid-day. Spread the word," he pauses and thinks for only a moment, "Crandir, Duilin, Galdor, Himring, and Ulfang are to be named Captains immediately. Gather them and meet me in the library. We will go over plans once more before it begins.”
“Yes, High King.”
Gil-galad climbs up on his horse and gives him one last nod. “Mára valto, old friend.” He then rides off and leaves Elrond to his own thoughts.
But Elrond is focused on the task given to him. Now is not the time to think.