Chapter Text
Gurlak worried.
She'd never admit as much, of course. Would in fact chase off anyone who implied such a thing, probably while wielding a hot fire poker.
Outwardly at least, she was the same stern but ultimately brazen uruk smith as she usually was, who still got scolded as 'impudent' by the Lord Father himself even well into adulthood, but who also ruled her little forge with an iron fist and did not slack off when it came to keeping an eye on Adar’s forces for him, either.
She’d learned that showing concern would lead to doubt, which would lead to confusion, which would lead to weakness. And ultimately, failure. None of which she could afford. Not in this situation. Not with so much at stake.
But in the confines of her own mind, Gurlak allowed herself to worry while she looked over towards the large towers of Eregion. She'd grown up being told stories about him - the Deceiver, an ominous threat whose cruel, evil deeds the elders recounted to the little ones in tales of horror and dread; in order to steel them for what was ahead, and to warn them of the danger Adar had saved them from.
Now, however, all of that had changed. The Deceiver wasn’t dead after all, they were all standing in front of the city that housed him, and Adar and the elves had gone to defeat him once and for all.
She didn’t like this. But she’d let Adar go, because for all her jokes and humorous remarks, she ultimately deferred to him, his judgement and his leadership.
And she’d let the elf, Celebrimbor, go as well, because she herself couldn't.
But that didn’t mean she’d done either of those things lightly.
The time after had been a waiting game. The dreaded sun might wander across the sky with the same pace as it had always done, but to Gurlak, it felt like time had slowed to a crawl.
She’d waited for a long time, restlessly wandering the edges of the camp, instructing the troops to hold their positions, to remain vigilant, to report back to her if anything caught their eye, when the first soldiers returned to the camp.
Only a handful of them, bloody and badly bruised. And among them, a single elf, tiny and slim, with bright blonde hair and wide eyes, who had tried her best to support Glug’s weight, who was limping and slugglishly bleeding from a wound in his side.
Gurlak had urgently shouted for the healers even as she strode forward. Two of her most trusted assistants soldiers grabbed the lieutenant below the arms and hefted him up. Glug hissed, and then groaned, as a healer hurried over and looked over his wounds.
"We need to stop the bleeding," the healer hissed in Black Speech, looking at Gurlak with drawn eyebrows as the smith hesitated.
Haltingly, she turned to Glug, and then let her eyes fall onto the elven girl – or, woman? Gurlak had no idea how old she might be. She looked like a young lass, but it was just as likely that she was older than all of them in this camp.
The smith finally nodded, "Take him to the tent. I’ll handle this," she replied, but spoke Westron instead, so the elf might understand her.
The healer nodded, and motioned for the two soldiers to come along. Glug tried to protest, and had enough strength left to stop them from moving along.
She still remembered him as a young boy. He’d shot up like a weed, but that didn’t mean he was frail as a flower. He was as strong as any other uruk, and used this to dig in his heels and turn to Gurlak.
"We were- attacked. He - in the tower," he coughed. "They are fighting him. The elf came and followed. I don’t know-," and then he tried to catch his breath.
"Go," Gurlak urged, even as Glug’s words were almost enough to make her blood turn red with the strength of her fright. "You need to rest. We’ve already lost the others, and who knows how many will follow. Can’t lose you too."
And with that, they were off, followed by the unsure looking elven woman. She looked at Gurlak in question as she tried to follow.
The uruk would have liked to ask her for more details about what had happened, but she had no time, and she could not afford any distractions. She jerked her head. "You should go to the tent as well, elf. You’re clearly not equipped for a fight."
The blonde nodded unevenly and gave Gurlak a slight bow. "Celebrimbor and Glug told me you’re with our people. Thank you," she breathed, "The- Annatar, he. He attacked them when they converged upon the tower. For what it’s worth, last I saw and heard, your Lord Adar and Celebrimbor were still alive."
And then she hurried after Glug and the healer, without even waiting for Gurlak to reply. The uruk hummed to herself and shook her head. The news Glug and the blonde had brought her were sounding quite dire indeed.
But what could she possibly do? Sending in even more soldiers would likely only result in more deaths and little else, wouldn’t it? If Adar and the elven warriors couldn’t best him , she was certain nobody could.
She motioned for another lieutenant to step closer towards her, in order to discuss on how to proceed. This one wanted to take a dozen soldiers and leave for Eregion. Soon, she and him quietly argued over the matter - or, tried to, at least. Of course, everyone around them was trying to listen in, even when she looked over and bared her teeth at them with a snarl, before shouting at them to make themselves useful and send another patrol around the camp’s edges again.
The other lieutenant finally made her reconsider when he said, "I’ll only take those that wish to go, and no more than a dozen soldiers," before he leaned in closer. "I can see you want nothing more than to go there yourself and help Adar. We all do. Let me go in your stead."
"You’re the third person asking me to let them leave, and to a certain doom no less," she hissed, and crossed her arms in frustration as she paced back and forth.
The other smirked; he’d been with her when she’d let Celebrimbor go. Something that she would do well not to tell Adar, if she got the chance to talk to him again.
Once . Once she got the chance to do so. She would not let growing despair take what little hope she had left yet.
"Looks like Adar’s elf lord made it just fine so far. And besides," his smirk got even wider. "I can tell you wish to help him, too."
Damn it. So her fondness of the elven smith truly was as obvious as Adar’s infatuation with him. Her mother would scold her something fierce if she knew Gurlak had gotten friendly with an elf . Even if he was a smith, and a pretty decent one at that, from what she'd seen of his craft.
She shook her head, sighed, and clasped the other lieutenant’s shoulder. "Keep that to yourself, and start walking," she grouched by way of permitting him to go. She couldn’t make herself do any different; if she asked him to be careful, she’d surely grow sentimental. A potential battlefield was not the place for that sort of nonsense.
He didn't comment, but only offered a respectful head tilt and stepped back to shout for his troop to join him. Soon, they’d made for the treeline, and then, Eregion.
More time passed after that. The sun still shone, bright and dangerous, almost mocking, and continued to wander the sky at a snail’s pace. Gurlak, likewise, continued to pace, asked for more reports, sent the guards out to patrol the camp’s borders once again. Had all of them return safely, but received no news from anyone who’d made for the city.
It was grating. It was grueling. Gurlak had never so accutely felt the passage of time, or lack thereof, as she had in those moments. Not even as an urukling, when she’d first begun to apprentice and been so excited that nothing could happen fast enough for her, especially things like the metal heating in the forge.
This was the opposite of that. And far worse.
It got to a point where she pulled out the little cluster of mismatched chainmail links, dull hooks, frayed leather straps and other little knick knacks that she hadn’t yet found a use for in her forge, and began to pass it through her fingers, worrying the leather and feeling out the indentations and scratches in the metal to calm herself.
After a very long time, and when she’d finally allowed herself a moment to sit and drink something, she heard loud shouting coming from the entrance to the camp.
Alert, she jumped onto her feet and hurried over, only to see multiple uruk of the troop that had last left the camp for the elven city, hollering and chanting.
To her surprise, the tone was elated – downright joyous. The chants were about victory, the hollering about how-
"He’s dead! The Deceiver is dead! Morgoth’s shadow is no more!"
Gurlak stopped, disbelieving, sure that she must have misheard. But no, the soldiers were smiling as well, some of them even jumping about as they found fellow comrades, friends or family, grasping at shoulders and shaking the others as they repeated their excited claims.
"They killed him – Adar and the elves, they killed him!"
Slowly, Gurlak allowed hope to enter her body, barely a kindling for now, but ready to become a bright, warm flame. Knowing the soldiers were alright put her a little at ease, and hearing that their leader and their new allies had defeated their shared foe did similarly.
But there was no word about Adar’s survival, yet. Or about the fate of the elves who’d gone with him.
She frowned as she stepped forward, until finally, she managed to grab one of the soldier’s arms and sternly directed his gaze towards her.
"What happened? Tell me everything," she demanded.
He smiled brightly, in the way uruk rarely did except for when they’d caught good game, or won an important battle, and explained how they’d entered the city and been directed to the tower, only to find dead bodies and destruction as they approached.
How they’d gone inside to find yet more devastation – but also, the shattered sword that the elven smith had made, at the site of the battle, with him having been defeated. And finally-
"Adar’s hurt, but alive," the soldier explained, as Gurlak had continued to look at him in deep worry despite all he’d previously said. "The elves are too."
It was then that Gurlak finally felt herself untense, allowed the kindle to turn into a proper hearth/furnace fire of relief, and huffed out a breath as she began to grin. "Good thing they are. I’d have gone to that place elves go after dying and dragged them right back here," she tried to joke, and was aware that her voice and hands shook as she did. "And I’d have found where they keep the uruk and gotten Adar back as as well."
Thankfully, Adar wasn’t around to witness this. She knew he’d understand. But he’d likely also tease her, in that fatherly way he did, or even the same way she enjoyed teasing him whenever she got the chance.
The soldier patted her on the arm in understanding, then he looked around and leant a little closer, "Oh, and also, I think him and the elf lord finally talked . They were all spark-eyed and clinging to each other when we got there."
Gurlak drew her head back and grasped the other uruk’s shoulder in response. The part of her that had been appointed to help keep the troops in check, that was meant to guard Celebrimbor, insisted that this was ultimately inconsequential for now, that it could wait until she’d seen Adar alive and back in camp.
The other part of her, that loved gossip as much as any uruk did, and could never quite resist an opportunity to tease the Lord Father, ultimatly prevailed however. "They did?" she chuckled and shook her head. "Finally. Took them long enough."
The other nodded and chuckled along with her. "Yeah, agreed. Haven’t seen a pair so dense as them before in my entire life. And my brother can crack stones with his thick skull!"
This, Gurlak knew, was no figure of speech. She’d seen his brother do that more than once. And witnessed Adar’s ire as he insisted the uruk should use his head for other, more useful things instead.
"Speaking of," the soldier said and looked at her sideways. "Weren’t you supposed to guard Adar’s elf?"
Gurlak refused to be apologetic. Not when almost everyone had survived. Adar could take it all up with her if he wished. She had a hunch Celebrimbor would speak in her favor if the Lord Father took offense to her decisions.
She shrugged. "He slipped past me and the rest of the group. You’ve seen him. He’s like a leaf in the wind - fast, unpredictable. And I couldn’t have tried to get him back, I’ve had other duties." And then she stared the other down, daring him to argue.
He looked at her skeptically, before shrugging as well. "Eh, that’s fair I guess. And anyway, it lead to them finally talking. So it’s likely for the best, anyway." And with that, he patted her arm once more, and then parted from her to go over to his aforementioned brother to continue with the excited hollering and the shouting.
Around her, Gurlak could see what was quickly beginning to look like a proper celebration of their victory. More and more uruk came together, bringing seating and barrels of drink, relighting large fires but this time, not to prepare for war, but for a feast.
She let them. And, once word came that Adar and his elf husband would be seen to by the healers of Eregion and then rest, she was among the first to help roll in the larger barrels, and partook readily in drink and food and song too, along with the others. She wasn’t sure if all of those that had gone to Eregion would return back here; the elven king would have to talk to his own troops, and Celebrimbor to his people.
But Adar, he’d certainly come back to them. And until then, they’d start celebrating his victory.
Their victory.
It took a whole day for Adar to finally return to camp. From what Gurlak had been told, he and Celebrimbor had been so exhausted from the fight – and doubtlessly, everything that had lead up to it – that they had collapsed into the nearest bed to get some sleep right after.
Which she approved of. Adar usually looked as if nothing could unsettle him, but the truth was that he worried just as much as Gurlak did. Probably more so, even.
He deserved some rest. Celebrimbor also.
She’d been in the middle of yet another drink, laughing wholeheartedly as four other uruk did their best to create a new battlesong in honor of the recent victory and then began to squabble over whether Adar’s marriage, the alliance or the victory over the Deceiver should be the most important event to be sung about, when she heard loud chanting coming from outside the camp.
"Adar! Adar! Adar!"
It quickly spread, likely because the Lord Father himself approached where most of the uruk had gathered, causing Gurlak and some of the others to jump to their feet and hurry in the direction of the chanting. While the other lieutenants ran, Gurlak favored brisk, quick steps, but they all were equally drawn towards the source of the cheering.
Adar looked both battleworn and proud as he slowly strode into camp. It was obvious that his status among his children allowed him to move forward unhindered where he otherwise might have been held up, with the uruk quickly walking back and out of his way so he might pass. Many were bowing in deference, patting and touching his arms, his shoulders, even his upper back, but they all let him move freely among them.
As she looked at him more closely, Gurlak could see nasty cuts on her leader’s arms, various smaller cuts all over his upper body, and a big one on his upper thigh, all of which had already stopped bleeding. Nothing life-threatening, especially not for him. She heaved a sigh of relief and allowed a smile to spread across her face as she approached.
Since Glug was still being treated by the healers, she took it upon herself to talk to Adar. He’d want to know about his most trusted’s whereabouts, and both she and the other uruk wanted to know what had happened.
Particularly, if what the soldier had told her about Adar and his husband was true.
She watched his gaze move over his children, touching their hands and laying his own on their shoulders, patting their arms in reassurance and comfort. As he spotted the smith, they locked eyes, and he soon came walking over towards her.
Gurlak, who knew she was far more prone to touching others than most of her fellow uruk, wanted nothing more than to reach out and draw her Lord Father into a tight hug. Much had depended on this day, and she knew Adar had been ready to die in an effort to ensure everyone else’s survival.
Seeing him, both alive and after having managed to protect the vast majority of them, was today’s greatest victory in her opinion.
Instead of wrapping her arms around him like she wished to do, she smiled widely at him, proud of her leader and his deeds, even as she did her best to blink away sentimental tears of relief.
She had a reputation to uphold, after all, and crying in front of Adar like a small urukling would be a very quick way to leave it in complete shambles. No, she would not cry.
Instead, she smiled wider, and nodded at her leader before inclining her head in a show of respect. Adar, to her pride and delight, did likewise towards her.
"Lord Father," she said as she righted herself. Still, her hands itched to reach out and feel that he was really here, alive and well. Or, relatively well, at least. "I’m glad to see you return."
"Gurlak," Adar replied. He still looked tired, despite the sleep he’d supposedly gotten in Eregion, but his expression was openly fond. "I am glad to return as well."
"You better be," she joked, unable to help herself, and finally reached out to pat his shoulder. To her surprise, he reached up a hand and caught hers in his, then gave it a squeeze.
Her smile wobbled as she felt the warmth of his skin. He truly was here. Her heart felt full.
She took a shuddering breath and continued before her emotions could affect her too much. "We heard about your victory, though the soldiers were scarce on the details."
Adar snorted and glanced at the surrounding uruk, all of whom seemed to have leant closer at her words. The feast was still underway, but in Adar’s direct vicinity, things had gone quiet. He let his eyes roam and raised an eyebrow, before he looked at Gurlak once again.
A small smile stole itself onto his lips. "That much is true. The elves and I, we have defeated the Deceiver-"
He didn’t get any further than that, at least not in that moment, when loud cheering broke out once more, a battlecry that had to carry all the way to Eregion and even beyond.
Gurlak lifted her other hand and took hold of Adar’s shoulders, even as she refrained from shouting herself. Instead, she nodded at his words, and waited for the cheering to die down again.
"My children," Adar addressed them, once the noise had quieted down again, "Some of your brothers and sisters have been lost on this day – we should light the pyres in their memory, and in tribute to their sacrifice. Thankfully, less have died than I had feared. But still, each one poses a loss to us. This day should be in their honor."
"It can be in their honor, and yours as well!" One of the uruk from the crowd argued. There was much murmuring, and nodding. Another added, "We should celebrate the living and their victory as well."
"Speaking of which," Gurlak used the chance, and waited till Adar had directed his attention towards her again. "One such survivor is Glug. An elven girl brought him into camp yesterday. He’s still being treated by the healers. They think it’ll take him a good while to recover but – they say he’ll make it."
Most would not have been able to spot it, but the smith knew Adar well, and could see the way his eyes slightly widened, how the set of his shoulders relaxed even as his hand tightened around her own again.
"I am glad to hear it," he said, voice quieter than when he’d addressed his children moments ago. "Where is he?"
"I’ll bring you to him," Gurlak promised. She’d already guessed that Adar would want to see the wounded before he partook in any celebrations himself. That was just who he was, and why they followed him; he’d always be the one to care the most, to shed tears for the fallen even when others had no more left to cry.
It had been why his behavior, back before Celebrimbor had been brought into camp, had unsettled them all so much. He was one to make difficult decisions, yes, but the single-minded way he’d set them on a path of war had seemed odd to many of them.
In hindsight, she supposed it had been concern borne of old hatred, and fear. Ill-begotten and misdirected.
"But first, tell us, what about the others? What about," she deliberated for a short moment, and then decided to try for levity. "What about your elf- I mean, your husband ?"
The fact that she could see Adar falter and struggle to find an immediate reply to her remark made her raise her eyebrows. Maybe the soldier had been right after all. D are she say it, the Lord Father looked a little... flustered.
"He is quite well – as are the other elves," Adar replied. He glanced sideways. It was as if all the uruk collectively held their breath. It was obvious that rumors had already spread. When their leader glanced at Gurlak, she was looking at him expectantly.
"He helped us defeat our foe, and saved my life," he shared, and finally admitted, "And...I also believe our marriage has grown into something beyond the duties to our people, and the political benefits it provides."
There was, unsurprisingly, even more cheering afterwards. Adar looked vaguely embarrassed.
Gurlak, herself, wore the widest grin she could muster yet, and slapped Adar’s shoulders in obvious approval. Many other uruk did likewise, patting his back and his arms, muttering congratulations and agreement.
She could see Adar blink in surprise when, among the well wishes and teasing, there were exclamations of "Finally" and "Took them long enough" mixed in.
The Lord Father looked at Gurlak in question. She simply tilted her head and looked at him with a light frown, as if to silently ask him if he was being serious. Going by his continued look of confusion, it seemed like he actually was. Gurlak shook her head and huffed a breath; for being so long-lived and wise, Adar could be quite dense sometimes.
She’d tease him about it, once there was a bit more time to do so. He very much deserved it.
"Speaking of which, how do you know he was in Eregion? Celebrimbor, I mean," Adar added, and narrowed his eyes as he studied Gurlak. His gaze was piercing – but the tilt of his mouth was that of a small, knowing grin, not a disapproving frown. "I distinctly remember that you were tasked with keeping him behind the frontlines."
Gurlak, who’d had time to think on her answer, wasn’t taken off guard in the least. Without a single blink, she replied, "Ah, yes. We heard some suspicious noise in the forest and sent him back to camp on his own. Must have slipped away and somehow found his way into the city again," and then she smirked at Adar and raised her eyebrows as she teasingly continued, "he is quite nimble , after all."
Adar tried his best to look unimpressed, but she could see his mouth twitch at her remark, and let her grin turn into a gleeful smile.
She couldn’t help but add, "Also, it looks like it worked out for the best, after all, didn’t it?"
Whether he was in a good mood due to the victory, or because of the fact that he and his elf had finally managed to have a heart-to-heart, Adar just sighed and nodded in agreement. "That it did. Though I could have gladly done without the terror his sudden appearance evoked in me," he said, but again, his tone was light.
Gurlak nodded and patted his shoulder once again. Looking at Adar, wounded but standing upright, obviously besotted with his elven husband, she let his words sink in – Celebrimbor had actually saved Adar.
If that reckless elf hadn’t decided to defy his husband, his friends, his own king and insisted to go back ino the city...if she hadn’t let him-
She’d have to thank the elf, once she saw him again.
With a sudden surge of relief and gratitude, not just at Celebrimbor but the victory itself, Gurlak stepped forward while drawing her Lord Father towards herself, and soon had him in a tight hug.
No matter how forward she usually was, she’d normally have never been so bold as to hug him, especially in front of so many others. But with the victory, and the confirmation that Adar could have died , the urge to do had finally been too overwhelming to resist anymore.
To her surprised elation, the other did not protest or try to untangle himself, even if she knew that her tight grip had to aggravate some of his bruises or potentially even his ribs, with the way he let out a pained hiss.
Instead, he seemed almost frozen as Gurlak closed her eyes, face turned outwards so Adar wouldn’t see a tear leave her eye, cheek pressed the the chainmail on his shoulder. The warmth of his body seeped into her own, and she could feel him breathe against her as she held on.
After a moment or two, Adar slowly lifted his own arms, and then sat heavy, steady hands onto the smith’s upper back.
She was glad the rattling and clanking of armor swallowed her small sob, as other uruk came closer and similarly wrapped their arms around them. Gurlak wasn’t sure who she was pressed against, or how many, just that when she reached out with one hand, there was no direction in which she wouldn’t touch someone’s arm, or shoulder, or upper back.
Soon, she was surrounded by warmth and bodies from all sides, as was Adar. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever felt so safe, so comforted, ever since her mother had cradled her to her chest as a small babe.
When she felt steady enough to do so, the smith lifted her head, and saw a sea of arms and hands, slung tightly around bodies, soldiers and smiths and guards and builders and parents and children, all of them embracing in relief and happiness.
When she turned her face towards her Lord Father, the other was similarly looking around, eyes wandering the camp. There was a sheen over them, and differently than Gurlak, he did not hide them as his tears began to fall. But when he looked at her, his expression was not one of sorrow, but one of hope and joy. She gladly returned his smile with one of her own.
Slowly, chanting started up around them again. Slower, this time, more reverent than elated, and more quiet, but quickly rising in loudness. The sound of their chant seemed to encompass the whole camp, shivered its way through Gurlak’s body, who soon chanted along without conscious thought.
" Nampat! Nampat! Nampat!"