Once upon a time, there was a little elfling who lived in a big house with his mother, his father, his little sister, and his baby brother. He was very much loved by his parents, and loved them very much. There came a time when the elfling was old enough to find out about the history of his family, but he was not proud of some of it at all, because his father had kept a secret from him. He himself was keeping a secret from the rest of his family, and everyone who knew him. His father began to suspect, and things began to fall apart, one day at a time.
One day the boy decided to let them know the way he felt inside. He could not stand to hide it; his mother she broke down and cried.
"Why do you do this? Why do you disobey me?" demanded Angrod.
Glorfindel defiantly stood his ground. "I do not disobey you. I am telling you the truth. I can no longer suppress these feelings."
"It is wrong!"
"Killing is wrong!" Glorfindel shouted back, immediately regretting his words, and yet meaning them. His mother let out a wail, continuing to weep. Remorsefully, he wanted to run up to her, to climb in her lap as he would have done when he was not quite so tall, and not quite so old. Not that he was old- he had barely turned forty-one, though by his appearance and manners most mistook him for an elf reached his majority. Angrod shook his head and turned his back to Glorfindel. "It is wrong," stated Glorfindel. "You and all the rest were wrong to do it. You could have stopped yourselves. I can't stop this. I do not know why I am like this, but this is what I am and what I feel."
Angrod began to walk from the room, and Glorfindel rushed forward, touching his shoulder. "Oh, my father. Why don't you talk to me now? Speak with me, council me, then."
"You have made your choice," Angrod said, slapping the youth's hand away. "Such thoughts you should not have, but you will act upon them, and that is forbidden."
"Then help me!" pleaded Glorfindel as Angrod continued to walk away. He hung his head as his father left the room, and turned to see his mother, still sitting, still weeping, covering her face. "Nana, please, don't cry for me," he begged, lifting his sleeve to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
She enfolded him, pulling him tightly to her. "It isn't just you, I cry for all of the Teleri he and his kin killed," sobbed the Vanya.
Glorfindel wrapped his arms tightly around his mother, resting his golden head on her shoulder. "Oh, my mother. Do you still cry yourself to sleep?" he asked, knowing when he was very young he sometimes heard her crying on nights when his father was off on patrol. She nodded as her tears began to stream down her face anew. "I am so sorry you had to learn of this in this way," he apologized, stroking her cheek before he kissed it. Hesitantly, he asked, "Are you still proud of your little boy?"
His mother hugged him fiercely as they both heard the pounding of feet on the stairs. "He is coming," she said in a panic.
"Don't be afraid," whispered Glorfindel, hugging his mother one final time. "I shall go where he cannot find me."
"You don't have to hide away," his mother told him, trying to retain her grasp on her eldest child as he stood up.
Glorfindel shook his head sadly as the noise of his father came closer. "Pray for me," he said, squeezing her hand. "I love you. Tell the little ones I love them, and I do love father, too. Until I see you again, Nana," he said, and with his lip trembling, he pulled away from her and rushed out of the room, out of the house, out of the woods, and out of his home and his life forever.
Story Notes:
Notes... this is a "songfic" I suppose... there is a song by Erasure entitled 'Hideaway' that I used as a basic for this. The entire song with one small change weaves through the story. Story is slash, has angst, my apologies though for no smut. An explanation of something from 'One Word' and other things, a First Age story, of which I have written sadly very few. This was going to be saved for Christmas, however, I decided I only want happy things this Christmas, and this no longer qualifies. This story is based on the song `Hideaway' by Erasure Waiting by the telephone Has been changed to: Waiting, he was all alone Because all the telephones in Gondolin were out of order… {Original date: November 10, 2004}