Work Text:
The moon had long started his sojourn across the heavy clouded sky when his words had left him and he sent his captains on their way. Adar had spoken with them since the afternoon, discussing the movement of the remaining troops, the management of resources. Their early conversation had been dominated by the death of one of their scavengers, Ufthak. He had been out with his brothers when he happened to stumble upon a group of raiders that had sworn fealty to him. The group had spoken about their plans to betray him and in listening in, Ufthak had forfeit his own life.
His brothers had found him later but he had died on their way back to the camp. His scouts had been sent out already to track down the traitors and he waited, expecting word from them sooner than later.
Catching himself staring at the stitched together drape covering the entrance to his tent, Adar slowly rose from his seat and strode around the table. He felt exhausted. In need of a reprieve.
As they were still settling into Mordor, their homes were still made of tents and earth. His tent was built against a hill, and a curtain, stitched together from various fabrics, separate the parts of his home were the tent met the earth. Ducking underneath it, he found his partner rouse in his bed.
“Will you come to bed?” Their voice was drowsy and the shuffled around the bed a bit before settling down again. “Is it time?”, he asked. But the silence in the room would give him no answer. Drawing in a long breath, Adar unclasped the sheath of his sword from his belt and strode over towards the bed. Tinwë’s eyes fluttered open briefly when he bent down and ran his gloved hand reassuringly over their head.
On the crooked shelf beside the bed laid a tattered bag, he grasped its strap which dangled over the edge and placed it on the shelf before placing leaning his sword underneath it against the wall. He removed his belt and placed it next to the bag. As his fingers began to untie the laces of his armour, when he heard a hoarse cough from behind the curtain.
Stepping outside, he found Lûg lingering inside the entrance. He was a quiet one and his frail statue, easily pushed around by his brothers and sisters. But he had found his place among their scouts and he was quick runner, despite his lame right foot. Lûg was staring at his bare feet, before his gaze jerked upwards, meeting Adar’s.
“Step inside. What news do our scouts have?” Offering a short nod, Lûg took a cautious step forward. “We found the traitors, caught em as they tried to slip by one of our patrols. Othrod and his group are busy dragging em back to camp. What do you want us to do when they get here, Lord Father.”
“Lock them away. I will deal with them in the morning. For the rest of the night, I do not wish to be disturbed. Speak with Uldigh, tell him he should act in my stead if there are any issues over the night.” Lûg nodded again, before pulling his cloak tighter around his body and turning to leave. “Lûg, you have done well today. Visit me in the morning. I have a task for you.” With a last glance over his shoulder, Lûg stumbled outside.
Adar sighed and strode around the table, towards the glowing embers of the fire. Closing his fist around them, he snuffed out the last light before walking back towards the curtain. Ducking underneath it, he found Tinwë just as he had left them. They had turned in bed to face him, a hand placed beside their head as they slowly breathed into the stillness of the room.
A moment passed.
And he began, impatiently now to tug at the lacing of his armour. One he had untied the knots and loosened the strings enough he began to lift the leather over his head and sat it down on a broken stool. His chainmail followed next and he swallowed a curse as a strand of his hair got caught in the rings. The silver mass poured over the edge of the stool, yet he could not bring himself to pick it up again.
Adar sat down on the edge of the bed, careful to not wake them. Gripping the heel of his boots, he peeled them, on after the other from his feet and placed them on the side of his bed just within reach.
He felt worn out.
Running his hand over the soft fur, he found the edge of their blanket and lifted it before slipping underneath it. Reaching for the candle beside the bed, Adar quenched its flame before he let himself sink down onto the furs at the edge of the bed.
Pressing his arms flat beside his body he waited, until he could no longer see the ceiling and the smell of the burning wax had faded. He waited, but all he was met with was a comfortable silence.
Turning on his side he let his hand roam across the mixture of furs and scraps of fabric until he found the spot where they had dipped down from the weight of his body over the weeks. Adar allowed himself to sink deeper underneath the warm blankets, into their waiting arms as they pulled their bodies closer together. With their arm across his chest and their face nuzzled in the crook of his neck he was slowly lulled to sleep by their slow breaths.
Tinwë held him in their arms when he opened his eyes again, facing the morning that had come to soon. He sifted slightly, to make himself more comfortable. “What it is”, they mumbled as their hand ran through his hair. It took him a while to find his voice, amidst the disarray of words and scenes in his mind.
“A son of mine. I have asked him to come here in the morning.” Blinking the sleep away, he attempted to focus on the ceiling above. “Do I know him?” Adar turned his head to the side to look at them. “Lûg. Named after someone I once knew. He is part of the scouts and has a lame right foot.” They remained quiet, waiting for him to continue speaking. “I am aware you prefer to work with metal rather than leather, but he has no shoes. And he struggles to find a place among my children. I trust you can help him.”
Tinwë let out a deep sight, before pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Of course.” Adar gently grasped their hand with his own and kissed it. “Rest. I will let you know when he is here.” He sat up slowly, pulling his legs out from underneath the comfort of the blanket. He felt worn out.