Flame of Gondolin, book 1: Love Story

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Title: Flame of Gondolin, book 1: Love Story (#4404)
Author: Malinwen
Chapters: 17

Archive: Tolkien
Category: The Silmarillion
Description: Every Elda is predestined. From the moment of her birth, Anárië's path was set ... she would not know happiness before all she had was lost, and lost again. And in a world struggling against Morgoth's chains, hope seems like the last important thing. Book 1 of the series. Alphabetical character list added at the end.
Published: 01 Mar 2012
Updated: 09 Nov 2012
Warnings: violence towards the end; Fall of Gondolin
Type: Romance
Characters: OFC; Glorfindel; Ecthelion; Elves of Gondolin

Chapter 1 - Chapter I

We were both young when I first saw you �

FLAME OF GONDOLIN
part 1:

LOVE STORY\r\n\r\n

Author: Malinwen
Type: Romance
Fandom: Silmarillion � Alternate Universe � Femme Fatale
Pairing: Glorfindel/OFC, a bunch of others
Rating: R

Warnings:
some sexual innuendo, the Fall of Gondolin

Disclaimer:
I do not own the Silmarillion or any of the characters of J.R.R.Tolkien, but I do hold credit over An�ri� as she is my creation entirely. The story was inspired by Taylor Swift's hit-single Love Story but is in no way affiliated with it.

This is part one of a three-part story, covering the final few years of the fair city of Gondolin, said to rival even Tirion in Valinor.

Feedback: always appreciated!

Elvish: will be translated at the end of each chapter, though I promise no perfection.

Also special thanks to the wonderful Eldalie for her comments and help with polishing this story up!

***

CHAPTER ONE
Early spring, 509 FA

"Atar?"

Ecthelion looked up, careful to control his weary expression. His daughter An�ri� stood at the bottom of the steps that lead to their private chambers, hands clasped in front of her. She reminded him very much of his passed wife Cealea, with her long golden hair and eyes as green as the emeralds Rog worked with.

Right now, those eyes cut right through him.

"There has been another attack, has it not?"

The Lord of the Fountain heaved a sigh and lowered himself onto a settee closest to him, the folds of his long overtunic parting and revealing the riding-stained clothing underneath. It had been a long day.

"You know me too well, yendenya."

An�ri� took the last step onto ground floor and crossed the distance to her father, kneeling by him in a pool of pale silk. One hand touched his knee, the other his fingers. He returned the gesture and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Duilin rode out when no word came from his scouting group. He brought only one body home, the rest have been lost."

She trembled, her lower lip quivering slightly.

Orcs were growing ever bolder, trying to find a way through the high passes of the Encircling Mountains. While she could pretend the threat did not exist when she played with little E�rendil, An�ri� could not do so when her father returned home in such a state.

Ever since her mother's passing An�ri� had taken care of the household for the Lord of the Fountain, unoficially becoming Lady of the house. Her coming off-age begetting day celebrations were just around the corner, but with the latest events upon Tumladen and on Gondolin's borders, she could not welcome the time.

She found her voice: "What of the women? There were healers with the scouts."

The grey eyes of her father clouded further, and An�ri� bit her lip lightly, turning her face aside. When Cealea had been lost on the outskirts of Tumladen due to a goblin raid, both husband and daughter had accepted the inevitable; but they also felt deeply for those of their kin who knew the same loss. And this time it appeared to be no different.

"Turgon will call a council soon," Ecthelion's voice floated over her. An�ri� looked back into his face, a frown upon her features.

"He is late in doing so if it is about these latest killings."

Ecthelion forced a very bland smile onto his lips.

"Always the harshest judge; you know little of the King's mind, yendenya. Never forget that."

Chagrined, An�ri� lowered her head, cheeks flaming, although on the inside she did not regret what she had just said. Turgon listened more to the councils of Salgant, Lord of the Harp, than Tuor his son-in-law, even though it had been the latter with whom the warnings of Ulmo had come.

Those close to Ecthelion knew well who influenced the Harp Lord, however.

While Maeglin was mostly respected and well-loved by those of his House and the House of the Harp, the other High Lords did not find it amusing when he spoke against them all in councils. Having won over Salgant, they did not know who would be next. With things standing as they were, they could not afford any more drawbacks.

"The King worries for his people," her father spoke while she contemplated, his voice sounding from a distance, as her thoughts clouded her mind, "he wants to do something. But as his Lords, we cannot seem to agree and therefore we are not helping him."

"Would it not be best if we just left, as Lord Tuor says?" she asked, looking up.

Their eyes met and held. Both loved Gondolin dearly. An�ri� had been born into the city, with its seven levels and seven gates, and the King's tower rising in greeting to the heavens. Ecthelion had seen it built. Leaving it would be hard for both of them, yet if it was the only way �

What the young elleth had learned in the very first stages of her life was that sometimes, it was necessary to make a sacrifice for the good. Her mother had told her as much, while combing through her daughter's golden tresses. Her father sacrificed bit by small bit dayly, for reasons she could not yet understand, though she tried.

If the only sacrifice recquired of her at this moment was leaving Gondolin, An�ri� thought she could do it.

Her father, closer to the King in council, doubted that would be the outcome soon.

"I do not think the King will submit to it; Turgon believes, and so do we all to an extent, that the Mountains will protect us, the mists over the hidden ways, and if nothing else the city's position and defences."

She thought on this for a moment.

"And yet you said yourself that Lord Glorfindel � Gondolin's best warrior � doubts the strength of all the Seven Gates together, especially with the North gate to the other side. Our only weakness, since the House of the Mole was given watch over it."

His daughter was a fast learner, and had a good memory.

"Indeed, I did say that. But let it suffice that we believe he is wrong."

She nodded and stood, smoothing her skirt off, fingers brushing across the fabric gently. She would believe � for her father's sake. When she stopped doing so the world as she knew it would come to a bitter end.

"Whatever you will say or do, Atar, I will be by your side. No matter what."

This drew a proper smile from Ecthelion and he watched her leave, passing through the arched doorway into the main portion of the house. He could hear her asking for the midday meal to be prepared sooner. Knowing he could not remain where he was, he stood to climb the stairs before him with a sigh.

Tuor shared Ecthelion's fears and doubts, An�ri� noticed when she visitied Bar-en-Roval that afternoon; Idril's smiles seemed very forced, and her husband's face was grave. Ecthelion's daughter did not linger, instead seeking solitude in her father's garden gazebo.

It did not seem unnatural to her that, when an eerie quiet followed after the last raids, Ecthelion and Tuor's worries escalated, and they pressed the King to call a council sooner. Idril confided in An�ri� that Tuor was becoming increasingly disilusioned with her father's actions, especially since Turgon seemed so ignorant of the warnings of Ulmo. Something was bound to change soon.

Finally, on a clear spring day, Turgon called his High Lords to the palace council chamber, seating them by the round table. An�ri� knew, despite never seeing it, that it had been constructed thus to make all the attendants equal. Ecthelion, who had just been seated, could tell his daughter much � though much more had to remain hidden, especially in times like these.

The King looked upon his Lords gravely: "Here we come today to discuss the continuing question of our city's safety. Duilin?"

The face of Gondolin's first and best scout was grave as he looked at the gathered.

"I bring grave news, my brothers. Despite the apparent calm upon our borders, some of my men have yet to return. We fear them lost. If this continues, we will have no more warriors to watch our outer defences."

Egalmoth's eyes flashed, but he said nothing, resting his fingers against his chin in silent contemplation while the others discussed the matter at hand.

"It is unlikely that we will need more scouts in the future," Maeglin's soft voice drew their attention, "you have said yourself, my lord Duilin, that there have been no raids and no more attempts to breach the outer circle. I say we withdraw further into Tumladen."

"And leave the outer defences unmanned?" Galdor asked, doubtful, "That has not happened before and I fear the outcome should it be so now. Our numbers are dwindling slowly, yes, but if we abandon the posts within the mountain passes, more ill will come to Gondolin than good."

Tuor agreed: "If we do not do something fast, the city will fall eventually. My King, you know the words Lord Ulmo sent with me. I say the time has come to act upon them."

Every pair of eyes turned then to the King, who sat silent and pensive upon his throne. Ecthelion met the gaze of his cousin through marriage, Egalmoth, and those of Glorfindel, Tuor and Galdor. Two parties were forming at this council, and they could all feel it. Which would prevail?

Maeglin spoke again, breaking the silence, "Uncle, surely you will see reason when I say we should not abandon the city you have spent such a long time crafting. It would be utter shame. And if we flee now, we give Melkor what he wants: seeing us defeated."

Tuor kept his face under tight control, but Ecthelion could see his hand itched to do something more than hold the arm of his chair. Imperceptive to all but the Lord of the Wing, he shook his head.

"What do you expect to achieve by remaining here?" Rog spoke up finally, breaking the tension, the heavy mace of his House resting before him on the table. Of all the gathered Elves, his build was thickest, and his arm strongest. "It is obvious we are being circled into a trap. I've seen a pattern forming in the losses of our scouts. Morgoth seeks to tie the last knot; we will know who to thank when the city falls upon our heads."

There was a murmur, but while Salgant flashed Rog a sneer, Maeglin simply sat back with an easy, charming smile upon his face. Beside Ecthelion, Glorfindel's hand formed a fist under the table, though no other outward sign of malcontent was shown, and even this was tempered when Ecthelion lightly nudged him.

"My Lord, something MUST be done," he said, turning away from Glorfindel to look at the King, "and whatever that is, it must happen swiftly. However you decide, time seems to be against us."

This time, it was Penlod who was obviously unhappy with the development.

"You speak as though you know exactly what will happen, Fountain Lord. Pray tell, perhaps you should share your knowledge?"

Ecthelion would have said something, but Egalmoth stirred then, finally, one arm extended in his kinsman's direction to still him.

"The Warden of the Great Gate has no need � or indeed time � for such accusations. If and when he learns something that might save your humble self, my lord Penlod, I'm sure you will be the first to know."

Of all the gathered lords Egalmoth was the eldest, having been born in the same year as Turgon, and it was to him that the King normally turned for advice. Therefore his calm words, spoken in a dry tone, were a heavy blow, making Penlod shrink back into his chair out of fear. He would not risk waking the wrath of the Elf who could shoot a crow in flight a few hundred feet in the air.

Salgant would have come to his friend's aid, but Turgon finally had enough and stood.

"Peace! This is exactly what the Enemy plans � to set us against each other."

They fell silent, and bowed their heads, though Ecthelion met Egalmoth's gaze and thanked him silently for his support. It was better that the level-headed Lord of the Heavenly Arch had spoken in his defence than the hot-tempered Glorfindel, who even now sat simmering beside him.

The King looked at each in turn before speaking.

"All of you have sound reasoning for your part � and in times like this, a King must act for the best of his people.

This therefore I declare: our patrols remain unchanged. We remain in Gondolin. Should something occur, another council shall convene, but until then, leave me! It is tiresome enough to hear your bickering without the added strain of ruling a kingdom."

The Lords acknowledged the verdict with mixed emotions. Tuor exchanged a hopeless glance with his followers, all of them sensing their doom was near at hand. Those who supported Maeglin's cause were slightly more pleased.

Rog was first to leave, hefting the heavy weapon over his shoulder and sweeping through the door, taking no obvious side. Others followed in their own fashion, with Egalmoth promising Ecthelion to stop by his house later.

None of them saw the smile upon Maeglin's face, too engrossed they were in their own thoughts. A soft, beautiful gesture, that hid much malice behind it. A smile of victory.

Ecthelion's steps were heavy as he returned to his abode. An�ri� knew the decision had not been made to her father's satisfaction as soon as he returned. She left one of his shirts unmended and joined him. Together, they stood by the large glass doors that lead into the gardens behind the mansion. In silence, they listened to each other's even breathing, the bond between single father and only child strong between them.

"The situation is hopeless," Ecthelion murmured finally. An�ri� did not move or speak, the only sign that she heard him the pressure of her pursed lips.

"'Tis a shame that you should come off-age at such a time, yendenya � but we shall make it worth wile all the same."

This time she did look.

"You know you do not have to do this � I would have been content with a small gathering."

Her father's smile was sad.

"After your decision to lay aside your dreams and take your mother's place at my table? My little ray of sunshine, allow me this small indulgence. Let me give you a token of remembrance into your adulthood. It is the least I owe you."

She lifted a hand to touch his cheek, then turned and hid in his embrace like she used to when she'd been younger. Ecthelion held her close, a part of his mind thinking ahead to the celebrations, another worrying over what was to come.

For the year was 509 of the First Age, and although no Elf within the city � save perhaps Maeglin � knew it, it was the year before Gondolin's fall.

Atar - Quenya form of 'father, dad'
Yendenya - Quenya form of 'my daughter'

Chapter 2 - Chapter II

CHAPTER TWO
Early spring, 509 FA

It was late in the afternoon and Arien was beginning her descent to the western sides of the Encircling Mountains. At the Gates, the shifts were taking place among the warriors who had stood guard during the afternoon, and those who would stay until midnight. Galdor met up with Egalmoth on the lower levels, behind his bronze gate.

"Hail brother!" the latter greeted, a friendly smile smoothing his usually stern face, "Have your soldiers traded places then?"

"Of course," the Lord of the Tree replied, clasping his friend's arm, motioning back the way he came, "it all went smoothly enough. I have also told my men to keep a good eye out on the fields, in case any of the missing scouts return."

Egalmoth nodded, and motioned to one of his men for his horse: "Wise decision; and now we must make haste to Ecthelion's house. My cousin has outdone himself with this soir�e."

"Indeed?" Galdor asked with gentle curiosity and a playful smile; it was no secret that Ecthelion wished nothing but the best for his daughter.

They made their way past the fourth gate, guiding their horses among the Elves in the street up towards the fifth. They exchanged a glance when they saw who was talking with Salgant, falling silent as they passed to the upper levels.

"It would seem our brother Penlod has finally turned to the other side," was the first comment that fell from Galdor's lips once they were out of hearing range. Egalmoth's face had clouded again at the sight they had just passed, and his grey eyes were unreadable when they met his friend's blue's.

"Do not mention this in front of Ecthelion � not tonight, at least. He might not draw that conclusion even if they arrive to the banquet together. We should not burden him on this day. After the celebrations, there will be enough time for discussions."

Galdor nodded his assent on this immediately, "Of course, my lips are sealed. Besides, from what I hear Ecthelion has enough on his mind right now; An�ri� still dreams. She would be happier if she could visit her father and his men more often at the Great Gate, I believe."

Egalmoth shook his head, "It would be equally unwise to bring this up in the house. It is a sore spot for the both of them � him, because he cannot change the situation, her because she has chosen this path willingly."

"I had no intention of speaking to Ecthelion about it tonight, Egalmoth!" the Lord of the Tree cried, just as they finally climbed onto the seventh level, "Tonight we should leave all burdens outside." They left their horses at the stables by the Great Gates and continued on foot, following the road towards the Fountains of the South.

Ecthelion's abode had been constructed in two separate buildings on either side of the street, a wide arch connecting them and casting a shade onto the cobblestones which would ultimately lead to the stables. Behind one section were beautiful gardens which Cealea had had planted, while the other rested against the city walls. A wide terrace overlooked the street towards the Gate, and the evening sun danced on the glassed windows.

"Ho!" cried Galdor all of a sudden as they stepped into the sprinkle of a large fountain in the courtyard, "I would know that golden head anywhere. Glorfindel my friend, you do not by any chance mean to sulk in the shadows tonight, do you?"

The tall Elf-lord turned upon hearing his name and laughed, a sound that came easily to his lips, and clasped arms with the other two Elves.

"I should have known you would thwart my plans, Tree-whisperer! And you, Rainbow Lord, you will give me no respite either?"

"It is not my respite that you should seek," came the stoic reply, but the grey eyes twinkled despite the seriousness of both Egalmoth's voice and face, "when it is Lalaith's most fervent wish to orchestrate your wedding. Nay my friend! I will not stand in the way of my wife. Far safer for me to step aside and let her lead this dance."

"Yes, so you might still come to a warm bed at night," Galdor added with a pointed look that sent Glorfindel off into a roar of laughter, and left Egalmoth shaking his head as they turned to the entrance of the house.

Inside, Ecthelion and An�ri� were greeting their guests and directing them into the main living area. The Lord of the house stood tall in blue and silver, the emblem of his line embroidered on the front of his tunic � one of the last Cealea had done for him. His dark hair had been swept back and was held in place by a silver circlet.

Beside him his daughter stood almost as tall as he. She wore an airy white gown with lace added on the trimmings; it wrapped around her slender figure like a lover's touch, a wide girdle around her waist. The simbol of her Father's house was upon the front, and her hair fell past her hips, with flowers peeking out among the braids.

They had just finished speaking with Rog when the path cleared and Turgon entered, with Idril and Tuor following in his wake. The three royals looked splending in simple, but no less regal raiments, their only ornament being a star-crystal on the Lady's brow. The King never wore his crown on such occassions.

Ecthelion and An�ri� sank low, greeting their lord and his family appropriately. Once the formality was done, however, Turgon stepped forward and clasped arms with Ecthelion.

"You have outdone yourself, brother; I have not seen such splendour in a while now. Your daughter must be very proud of you."

The elleth in question felt her cheeks become warmer, and she dropped her gaze.

Her father came to her rescue: "I do believe it is the other way around, my lord. No father has ever been as proud of his daughter as I am of mine tonight."

Emerald green eyes looked up again, the 'thank you' written in them so fervently that Tuor and Idril exchanged an indulging smile, while Turgon laughed.

He took An�ri�'s hand, turning her attention to himself.

"I sense much of Ecthelion in you, my dear; and much also of Cealea. You are by far too modest. Had your mother lived, she would have been proud."

An�ri� murmured a courteous reply and bent her knees slightly in thank you.

Idril stepped up then, "Come Father, you are intimidating the poor child. Spare her the intrigues of your politics at least for a year more!"

They all chuckled at this, and Ecthelion exchanged a wry look with Tuor, who simply smiled, and kissed An�ri�'s hand when he got the chance, murmuring congratulations.

The hostess smiled pleasantly, regaining her composure and her manners, and extended a slender hand towards Turgon: "Thank you, all of you. Please, do step to the main room with me � I believe you would enjoy the pastries our cookes have made for tonight. There is a great variety of them, including apple and cinammon."

Turgon took the offered hand with a dramatic sigh, tucking it neatly into his elbow, "Ah, a culinary taste after mine own heart. And I specifically asked your father not to tell you my favourite. It seems I shall have to punish him."

By now though, An�ri� was certain the King enjoyed teasing his subjects whenever he could, so she was not too worried about the punishment.

"Actually, sire, my father had nothing to do with it � a lady must needs trust in her little birds, they inform her of everything. Has your daughter not told you this?"

"No, but I would had I thought of it," Idril murmured behind their backs while Turgon laughed at the retort and let the young elleth lead him away.

Ecthelion turned to a chuckling Tuor.

"I sincerely hope she will not teach E�rendil such replicas," commented the Lord of the Wing non-chalantly. Idril refrained from commenting while the host smiled.

"Your son has a sharp mind, my lord � nothing my daughter says can amend that."

"Hm," was the only reply right before he and Idril stepped aside to make room for others, leaving Ecthelion with the guests that followed.

Coincidently it was Egalmoth, Galdor and Glorfindel.

"I didn't think you would come!" Ecthelion exclaimed, smiling brightly, stepping forth to clasp hands with his brothers-in-arms, "especially since I knew you would be present on the lower-level guard shifts. I thought you would at least arrive at a later time."

"Oh come, Ecthelion!" Egalmoth chidded, taking off his rainbow cloak, "You did not seriously believe it when Galdor wished to excuse himself? He and Glorfindel were taking bets all day yesterday about it."

"Yes, and I won, while we are discussing this," Galdor grinned, while Glorfindel stood by, shaking his head.

"Egalmoth, I shall never share any of my plans with you again, you are far too loose-tongued about them," he said with feigned annoyance.

The Lord of the Heavenly Arch gave an indulgent smile; of all the Gondolin Lords he was the most controlled and reserved. Getting him to break would be similar to trying to bring down the mountain of Taniquentil. Hence, no jokes were spared on that account.

"We've watched your daughter grow over the years," Galdor continued, cutting the friendly brawl short, "why should we miss out on such an important event in both your lives?"

"Speaking of your daughter," Glorfindel interrupted, before Ecthelion said a word, "and you will forgive me for asking, but since I fail to see any fair-hair maidens present � not including our fair Princess Idril � I have to wonder where she is. Last I saw her she was still a child, quite a few heads shorter than yourself, Ecthelion."

"If you will permit me to speak without trying to verbally hit yourselves every spare moment of your life, I might just tell you," the Lord of the Fountain commented wryly, though not without humor, "she has taken the King inside, to the main area. Go right ahead, I shall be joining you shortly."

"You had better � I do not wish to be subject to another evening of Lalaith's meddling," Glorfindel continued, casting a glance in Egalmoth's direction, but the older Elf was already engaged in conversation with one of the other guests.

Galdor smothered a laugh and took his leave of their immediate company to seek his wife out, she had arrived with the others who were waiting for their husbands. Once alone, Ecthelion turned to Glorfindel with an amused smile.

"I take it my cousin is relentless in her quest?"

The Lord of the Golden Flower shrugged, "More or less. But we all know Lalaith � sometimes far more and far better than her own husband. She has found eternal happiness and now wishes for everyone to share in it."

His friend smiled at that, "And that is such a bad thing?"

Glorfindel smirked, "Not if you're already wed and raising a child. To me, however, she is more of a burden than a stray cat meowing on my window in the middle of the night. Trust me, Ecthelion, there is nothing worse than a happily married woman trying to tie the knot for you."

Ecthelion laughed merrily, shaking his head at the comparison. Knowing his cousin as he did, he was certain Lalaith would give Glorfindel a rest if he only said so. But his friend indulged the elleth and allowed her practically anything. Such was the charm of being young in comparison to your husband, and beloved by your people. Lalaith was the joy of Egalmoth's life, and in the lives of their close kin.

They exchanged a final amused glance before Glorfindel finally excused himself and made for the main room, greeting Elves as he went, for he was a well-known visitor in the house and Ecthelion's friend since before the crossing of the Ice. Spying Turgon's red robe close-by, he made a bee-line for him.

Someone nearly collided with him halfway and he automatically reached out to steady the young serving Elf, chuckling at the apologies and shaking his head. It could have been far worse. Resuming his course, he suddenly noticed Lalaith at that end of the room and immediately diverted his steps the other way. In doing so his gaze was captured by the open terrace doors in front of which the tables had been set up.

She was standing just outside the room, leaning lightly against the rail. A light breeze blew, shifting the way the silk lay across her skin, exposing her shoulders. She stood as still as one of the marble sentinels on the Road of Arches; there was a delicate sense of beauty surrounding her, and sadness.

Before he truly realised it Glorfindel was making his way towards her.

An�ri� was looking over the rail to the North-West, back towards her father's gate, although she did not really see anything, her gaze and thoughts far away. She had excused herself from the King's company to seek the solace of fresh air before Ecthelion joined his guests and the banquet could formally begin.

She felt caged, although she also wished to please him. It remained as hard as ever though, to play this role she had taken for herself, even after they had all promised her it would pass in time � her mother, her father, Idril.

It just didn't.

She still yearned to be able to hold a sword like her Father, but she had chosen the opposite path willingly. She could not falter now.

She would not.

Sighing and lowering her head, An�ri� turned around to return to the room and wait for her father to join them, glancing at two serving ellith who brought trays to the tables. They saw her and curtsied, stepping to the side and clearing the way.

He was coming towards her, breaking away from the main group of guests, his blue eyes as clear as the sapphires she'd often seen Idril wear. His golden hair was pulled out of his face in a similar manner to that of her father, with a circlet upon his brow. While he radiated the same silent authority and command as Ecthelion, however, his build set him well apart from the Fountain lord. His tunic seemed to be embroidered with golden threads, and a rayed sun blazed on the front.

Only one house next to the Heavenly Arch and House of the King took to using gold in their ornament - the Golden Flower.

Glorfindel paused at the entrance to the terrace, leaning against the doorframe lightly with one hand as he brought the other to his heart in greeting.

An�ri� dipped into a curtsy, her skirt pooling around her legs as she did so, before straightening again, lifting her eyes to meet his own. He was standing in the way of the setting sun � it set his blue eyes on fire.

He smiled, and she felt her lips curve hesitantly in response.

"My lady," he greeted her politely, dipping his head.

She looked directly into his eyes, something he seldom saw in the daughters of his friends, or others; they seemed much too intimidated by him. He did not sense that with her as she returned his greeting.

An�ri� could feel her heartbeat quicken as his eyes assessed her, not as blatantly as she'd seen some others do, but he was clearly taking her in. Oddly enough, she could feel the tell-tale heat in her cheeks which indicated she was blushing, something that had seldom happened before tonight.

He took a step towards her; he was tall, she noticed immediately. Taller even than her father. She was taller than most other ellith, and yet he was taller still. He took up her entire view, filling it with the broad expanse of his shoulders, blocking the doorway.

"Am I right to assume you are mistress of this house, and today's center of attention?"

His voice was deep, smooth like velvet. An�ri� nodded slowly, "I am, my lord." Then, remembering her manners, she added: "You have spoken to my father I presume?"

Her articulation reminded him much of Cealea, and the way his own mother would speak, with the lilting tone the Vanyar often used. She would have been hard-pressed to hide her lineage even without the striking golden hair. The little girl he had known and watched play in the gardens was long gone.

"I have, yes, as I entered the house. I believe he shall be joining us shortly."

She offered him another shy smile, nodding, "He should, yes, we must not keep the guests waiting."

At this he smiled and stepped aside, indicating for her to pass back into the main living area. An�ri� grasped the skirt of her gown as she took the offered lead, brushing her left shoulder lightly against him when he moved to follow after her.

This made him stop immediately, even as she turned to look at him, the green eyes catching his for another brief moment, before Turgon's voice called to a just-entered Ecthelion.

Shivering slightly, An�ri� hastened towards her father, her heart beating hard inside her chest.

Chapter 3 - Chapter III

CHAPTER THREE
Early Spring, 509 FA

With the formal presentation over, Ecthelion offered An�ri� his hand. She took it with a smile and they desceded from the raised dias that had been set in place for this occassion. It was time for the traditional first dance of the evening, the 'last' the father would have with his daughter before she would be swept away by possible suitors.

The large area had been cleared, tables pushed back against the walls, and one of the musicians of the house lifted a flute to his lips as the hosts stopped in the middle, facing each other with fond smiles.

Ecthelion took the lead effortlessly, for even though the Noldor were the most fiery of the Elven-tribes they still retained their habits from Valinor. An�ri� allowed him to guide her despite the fact that she did not usually enjoy dancing. But tonight was different.

After the first few turns Turgon looked at his son-in-law and Tuor lead Idril to the dance floor; others followed as well, and soon there were many couples dancing. The musicians were playing a well-known composition, 'Tears of Nienna', something the Exiles had brought with them from across the sea. The notes of the flutes sounded as if someone was truly crying, with the harp and violin following in low keys.

It ended with the ladies in one row facing their partners in an exchange of bows.

Ecthelion was the first to applaude, smiling at his daughter.

"Well done, my dear � and now it is time for your father to take his leave."

Something flickered in those green eyes, and Ecthelion wondered whether it was fear; to be reassuring, he smiled broader and touched An�ri�'s cheek gently, while the guests tried to decide on the next number.

"Fear not, yendenya: you are young, and tonight is yours. Enjoy yourself."

An�ri�, who was fighting very much to keep the fear from her face, forced a smile to her lips, her eyes moving to beyond her father's shoulder just as a hand landed there.

Turgon inclined his head towards his friend and the young elleth.

"Ecthelion, I might not be a suitor, but I would still like to ask for the honour of this dance � my lady?"

Obviously relieved, An�ri� took the offered hand, "The honour is mine, my lord."

Turgon took her father's position on the dance floor as Ecthelion left, but it seemed the song had not yet been decided.

"The eternal problem of any musician," the King confided in his dance partner; An�ri� smothered a giggle, and beside her Idril rolled her eyes with an indulgent smile. Turgon turned towards the musicians.

"The Ride of Orom�!"

Immediately, the lead artist bowed and took up a fiddle, putting his flute to rest. This was a livelier song from the first one, even as the Hunter was more energetic in his life form than the Vala Queen who cried over the fate of Ennor.

The King was a good dancer, and An�ri� soon found herself laughing merrily as she took Idril's hand and skipped on light feet, while Turgon and Tuor clapped to the rhythm.

By the time the song ended, she was breathless, with her nerves gone. Turgon had done his friend another great favour, one he would never call recompensation for. He longed, as any king should, for every Elf in his city to know the joys of life. If, by making the young elleth less nervous, he could help, then he would do so without hesitation.

On a nudge, Egalmoth's son Egaith stepped up and took An�ri� by the hand, leading her to their circle where she was warmly welcomed by the other offspring of the Lords.

After Egaith she also danced with a number of others, sometimes after they were pushed her way by their wives, sometimes they were brave enough to come on their own. When it was time for the first course, An�ri� was thoroughly enjoying herself, something her father noticed as soon as she sat down next to him by the high table.

"Is the evening to your satisfaction?"

She gave him a brilliant smile: "It is, Atar. Thank you." She leaned in and planted a kiss to his cheek. Ecthelion smiled and touched her side, and then the meal was brought to them, mushroom soup with turnip, followed by a leafy bread filled with the first blackberries.

Wine was served in large quantities, always mixed with water; there was also sweet mead, beverage from the honeyed roots of ginger, and numerous other drinks. An�ri� and Ecthelion both preferred the strong red vintage of Turgon's personal cellar.

The elleth had calmed her heartbeat down by then, chatting amiably with Idril and Tuor; she hadn't seen the Lord of the Wing in a long time now and catching up was always a pleasure. They both enjoyed each other's company without any fear of gossip, for Idril was An�ri�'s staunch supporter.

"Pray tell, how is little E�rendil?" Ecthelion's daughter asked, taking a strawberry from a bowl of fruit strategically placed on the table, "I've not had time to play with him in a while now. I hope he won't be too cross with me on my next visit."

Idril smothered a laugh, but her husband's rang loud and clear, "Worry not, An�ri�! He is quite anxious to play with you again, I assure you. He keeps getting up at other-wordly hours of the night, asking for you. I was about to beg you to come soon."

An�ri� giggled at that, "I will, tomorrow I hope � if I'm able to stand! My legs will surely give in from dancing, and I need all my strength to keep up with that boy."

"We shall tell him to be nice," the Princess said in her gentle voice, although amusement danced in her grey eyes, "but then, you know our son: if he cannot play loudly and lively, he will not play at all!"

"And what a shame that would be!" a new voice chimmed in. Tuor alone had noticed Glorfindel rise from his seat and make his way to them. An�ri�'s heart skipped a beat without her knowing any reason for it, while Idril simply made a swatting motion towards the Lord, laughing.

"Silence, Flower! You know nothing of child-raising."

Glorfindel fluently bowed, "My apologies ma'am, for indeed I do not; but I do know your son. He is a wonderful child. Do not quench his life-fire."

Idril pursed her lips together to refrain from commenting, obviously wanting to say something in good humor, while Tuor rolled his eyes in a very human gesture:

"Why don't you ask the Lady of the Fountain to dance and give us some peace of mind? The last time you came to us E�rendil took up the notion of trying to wield my sword. I shudder to think what could have happened if one of the servants had not caught him."

Glorfindel was obviously enjoying himself, and the banter they were exchanging was just perfect for his mood: "I did no such thing as plant an idea in his head, Tuor of the Wing, and well you know it! The boy simply takes after his father. But, before I offend you and your lady-wife, I believe I shall take your advice. My lady, would you do me the honour?"

An�ri� found her throat dry at that, especially after meeting those sapphire eyes with her own again, but a foot jabbed into her ankle under the table, making her rise so as to not fall back with her chair.

"The honour is mine, my lord."

She cast a glare at an innocent-looking Idril, with her fingers tingling where they touched Glorfindel's hand as he lead her to the quickly-filling dance floor. On the dias, Idril leaned towards her father, who turned to look at what she pointed at, smiling, and gaining Ecthelion's attention as well. Not only that, but most of the eyes in the hall rested on the golden-haired couple taking their polite greetings before the dance.

An�ri� felt goosebumps crawl up her arms as 'Winds of Manw�' began to play, a famous romantical balad, but also notorious for the love festival here in Gondolin. Glorfindel's face betrayed nothing, except perhaps a spark in his blue eyes, as he stepped by her and she followed, their shoulders touching in the turn.

"You chose this song on purpose."

She did not make it a question, but instead of a reply she had to content herself with an enigmatic smile as they circled around two other Elves before coming back together.

"And if I have?" he asked, taking both her hands as they turned under, "It is a lovely song; one of my favourites, actually."

An�ri� couldn't answer as the dance took them apart again, in the opposite direction, but once back at his side, as he lead her down the length of the floor, she could speak again.

"Is it? I would have thought someone like you would prefer 'The Ride of Orom�', or perhaps 'Aul�'s war-cry'."

Glorfindel laughed softly, lifting his arm as she turned under it twice, admiring the way her white gown flared around her, exposing her ankles.

"A common misconception, I assure you; I am not as fierce as they would have me be. Even warriors are gentle souls when times call for it."

They parted again, so An�ri� was unable to give a replica. It was a few turns before they stepped close once more, this time in an intricate movement of stepping forward and lifting the arms to cross them with your partner, never touching, and withdrawing to change hands upon the step backwards.

"I did not think gentleness in battle wins a war, my lord," she murmured.

Glorfindel smiled, bringing his hand up, their palms almost touching as they turned slowly. The warmth of his skin so close to her own was palpable.

"It does not; but there is a difference between being a great warrior and a thoughtless butcher."

She stepped forward and to his side, her arm slipping by his lower back so her hand nestled into his own at his hip, and he mimicked the action as they turned, stepping slowly while the flute drew its breaths.

An�ri� had nothing to say to that, and the way they turned now made it quite impossible for her to think, as his eyes bore into her own and swallowed her whole. There was no one else around; it was only him. His eyes reminded her of the Sea she had never seen, only imagined. If it would have a colour, it would be the same shade of deep blue.

She had a haunted look, Glorfindel decided as they switched arms, but remained in position and turned the other way now; haunted and innocent. Hopeful. She expected so much of life, of every day after this one. She'd been born in Gondolin's summer, and now it's autumn had descended. The Lord of the Golden Flower caught himself wishing to spare her the sight of its winter.

They parted again, turning on light feet and circling among other dancers before re-joining. She stepped by him, her back close to his chest, as he took her hand and turned them both slowly.

"Alass�a nosta," she heard his murmur, his breath lightly touching her ear as she turned under his arm one last time, and bent her knees into a curtsy, her skirts swirling to a stop as her heart hammered away inside her chest. It was a simple saying, an exchange of words upon one's day of birth. Why did they confuse her thoughts so?

Applause rose suddenly, and An�ri� became aware of the room around them again, straightening and joining in, though she spared only a glance at the musicians. Her eyes were still on the tall, golden-haired Lord of the Flower. He did not break the gaze.

Ecthelion came down then.

"My friends! Daughter, it is nearly sunset, and it is time for your gifts before we serve the second meal. Come."

He extended his hand, and she took it after a moment's hesitation, dragging her eyes from Glorfindel and following her father back to the dias, assuming a non-chalant expression, although she felt weak in the knees.

Idril and Tuor came first; the Lady gave her friend a small leather-bound volume of her own poems, while the Lord presented her with a slender white knife in an ornate scabbard. Diamonds and crystal had been set upon it, in honour of her house, and ancient spells woven into the blade.

"It glows blue when foes are close," he said softly, not loud enough for her father to hear, and An�ri� understood he did not wish to draw unwanted attention. She thanked him with a kiss to his cheek.

Her other gifts were equally magnificent, ranging from minor details to great things, among them a longbow with a quiver of swan-fletched arrows from Duilin, and the gift was even greater for he had made it himself entirely.

Galdor and his wife gave her a pair of soft boots. It did not seem valuable at first, but Galdor spoke to her ear softly: "They are used for scouting, my lady; mine own and Duilin's men wear these when they travel across Tumladen and within the Encircling Mountains. Should need arise, they will help you travel swiftly and silently."

It was odd, that there was a second gift of such nature, but An�ri� did not comment, and she thanked Galdor with an embrace.

Salgant gave her an intricate harp, the sign of his house, while Penlod presented her with a jewelery set of white gold and crystals. Rog did not give her a material gift, but along with golden flowers came the words that should she ever have need of anything, the hammers of his House would always help her.

Egalmoth and his wife brought a mantle forth. "It will keep you warm in cold places," Lalaith said as An�ri� fingered the soft material, "and keep as much of weather conditions at bay as it can. And should you pass through shade, it will cover you from unfriendly eyes, especially at nightfall."

She thanked them heartily, but by her count, three mighty Lords had yet to give her a gift; An�ri� turned towards her father expectantly. He was standing by Turgon and Glorfindel, and she could savour the moment of watching them together, each magnificent and noble in his own right.

"An�ri�, it is time for my gift to you; and since I required help from our King to pick it, it is only fair that he shares in the giving. As does lord Glorfindel, who prepared it for you."

A joint gift then; she smiled, her heart leaping slightly, and her hand trembled when she stretched it towards Ecthelion.

"I would like to see it, Atar."

Ecthelion's smile was handsome as he took her hand and turned her, so they left the main area, followed by Turgon, Glorfindel, and all the others filling out into the courtyard beyond. There they stopped, and Glorfindel slipped by in the shadows, as expectation rose.

Turgon placed a hand on the elleth's shoulder, "Your father picked it, and I chose another when the time came, my daughter, for I thought in the end that it was for the best. Glorfindel helped with the preparations. Are you ready?"

The smile she gave him dispensed any doubt the King might have had.

"I am, Sire."

There was a call, and a neigh, and then Glorfindel lead a stallion forward into the light of the rapidly-failing sun. It was a magnificent animal, large, long-limbed, with a flowing mane and tail, a dusty white colour that dulled in the shade as if to help hide his rider. The stallion's eyes were large and coal black, his nostrils flaring at the sight and smell of so many Elves. His saddle was high, the blanket underneath it patterned with the fountain emblem, and small silver bells were on the reins.

Glorfindel bowed, offering them to An�ri�: "My lady � from your father, the King, and myself. May you be safe upon his back, wherever you go, and may his legs carry you swiftly to any destination."

She was smiling so brightly he thought she was going to cry when he straightened again; she'd taken the reins from him and now ran a hand up the stallion's forehead, her lips moving as if she were murmuring soft words. She was in her own world. This gift was by far the greatest of them all, and she could feel her heart swelling with unspoken emotion.

"My lords, I do believe she should ride him around the courtyard," Idril's voice suggested, and when An�ri� looked at her friend, the Princess winked.

"I agree," Turgon said, smiling as he looked at the young elleth, "on his back, my lady; you shall enjoy it, trust me."

An�ri� looked at her father, as if asking for permission. Ecthelion felt a sense of melancholy, but he put on a smile, "You are your own person now, my dear; I cannot control you anymore."

"You couldn't do much of that before either," someone murmured, loud enough for them all to hear, which sparked a roar of laughter, and the tension eased. An�ri� suspected it was Tuor or Galdor.

Glorfindel stepped to her, "May I?"

She looked at him with that big smile and nodded, and he took her by the waist, lifting her effortlessly into the saddle. His fingers brushed her skirt as he pulled away, and she fixed her foot into the stirrup easily.

When she shifted her leg, the stallion flew.

An�ri� laughed; the lightest touch, a pressure to the reins or a shift of her weight in the saddle, and he responded, gliding smoothly through walks and into turns. Nothing seemed too difficult for the horse, no order would he disobey. They cantered around the courtyard while the gathered applauded.

A fountain rose in their way, and in one daring moment, An�ri� placed her foot lightly against the horse's flanks; he scaled the outer fountain wall and landed in the water, but before anyone could gasp, he was splashing across and clearing the other end, landing on the cobblestones, prancing lightly as she halted him. Water dripped from his legs and muzzle, and from the hem of the lady's dress, but she was laughing still, and her eyes sparkled.

"Gwaiforn," she said, cheeks flushed and breathless as she slipped from the saddle into Glorfindel's waiting arms, "You have given me the North Wind."

Ecthelion smiled; Glorfindel stepped aside as An�ri� threw her arms around her father and he wordlessly hugged her close.

Turgon was the first to turn back inside, and following his lead the others left as well, leaving the pair alone. Ecthelion tucked a strand of his daughter's hair behind her ear, and kissed her forehead.

"Come; the feast still awaits us � you shall have more time for Gwaiforn tomorrow."

Yendenya - Quenya for 'my daughter'
Atar - Quenya for 'dad, daddy'
Alass�a Nosta - Quenya for 'happy birthday'
Gwaiforn - the North Wind

Chapter 4 - Chapter IV

CHAPTER FOUR
Late Spring, 509 FA

Sitting in her rooms An�ri� thought of the beauty that came with Gondolin. It was not yet the hour of dawn, and yet the tips of the Encircling Mountains that she could see from her window were gleaming snow white against the pink sky. Very soon now, Arien would sail over them and thus greet her people in the hidden vale.

The elleth yanked a comb through her hair and mumbled something indistinct as it got tangled once more at the tips. Finally giving up, she brought it forward and carefully went through it with her fingers, disbanding one knot after the other.

Carefully, she pulled the front strands out of her face and clasped them behind her head with a simple pin, just enough to keep them out of her eyes. Satisfied, she stood and grabbed gloves from a side table while passing out of the room.

Her father was already gone, having ridden to the Great Gate about half an hour past, and was not due to return before the noon meal, for he was to go far out into the field of Tumladen today, escorting the princess Idril and her handmaidens to gather flowers under the shades of the Mountains to the south. They would make girdles and crowns out of them for the coming festival of Tarnin Austa.

An�ri� had not been asked to accompany them this year; previously, Idril had always included her but she had said, when the daughter of Ecthelion asked, that there was no need for her to come.

"You should be with Gwaiforn, my dear," the Princess had smiled that enigmatic smile of hers, "and you are bored with idle court gossip. No, do not apologise, for I do not like it much myself, yet as Princess I must abide by it. You, however, do not have to. So take this day of freedom and use it well � there is no knowing when it shall happen next!"

So now An�ri� was taking Idril's advice. One of the serving ellith came out towards the stairs when she heard her, carrying a satchel.

"Breakfast ma'am; and we shall keep everything in order until noon."

"Thank you Elwen, I won't be gone too long. But I want to take my horse for a ride. Enjoy the peace and quiet."

She took the satchel and skipped out through a side door, turning a corner and going into the stables. At this hour, no one was up so she had the whole area for herself, which suited her just fine.

Gwaiforn stuck his head out of the stall when he heard her coming, and An�ri� smiled brightly.

"Good morning, calwa � will you join me?"

He snorted and nibbled on a piece of carrot she brought him, before she fed him some oats and brushed him down, saddling and bridling him. She'd learned to do that on her own when she'd been a little girl, because she had demanded, shrilly, as far as she could recall, to be independent.

Carefully storing her food into one of the saddle bags the elleth lead Gwaiforn out into the open and brought him to a halt next to one of the smaller fountains. She could mount without leverage � her riding outfit was split so she could sit astride a horse, not side-saddle � but she wanted the horse to drink something first.

Murmuring to him calmly, An�ri� pushed a foot into the stirrup, fingers grasping the saddle as she pulled herself up, swinging her leg over him and settling down. The stallion hadn't so much as budged; he'd been trained well.

Pulling her gloves on she took the reins and lead him out of the courtyard, under the arch that supported a closed bridge which connected the two parts of the house, and out onto the main road to the Great Gate. Her father would be long gone by now; he wouldn't linger while he had to scout ahead, the safety of his Princess on his shoulders, so she feared no retribution.

The men opened the gates for her without question, although she was sure she could see some wary looks. This made her hide a smile; no doubt they were afraid of what her father would say. Ecthelion was famous for his temper when it came to his daughter's well-being. But today, An�ri� wanted to watch the sun rise while she was sitting by the Great Lake upon Tumladen. It wasn't far, being within a stone-throw of the outer wall, almost in the shade of the city itself.

Gwaiforn huffed and paused momentarily during her meditations, and she realised she needed to focus; taking up the reins again and lightly brushing her heel against his side, An�ri� lead him through the open Golden gate. The Lesser gates always opened an hour before sunrise, only the Great Gate remained closed until an hour after Arien had risen.

The stallion's gait was fluid and his hooves beat evenly against the cobbled path, though his ears pricked when a soft call rose.

An�ri� heard it too and paused, turning around in the saddle. Someone had called her name. She thought she could see movement above the gate and frowned; had her father left orders to keep her in the city after all?

A form peeled away from the shadows and cantered out through the gate, but her fears melted when the bleak morning twilight caught a faint glimmer on the vambraces. A golden inlay, something only one Lord wore.

The elleth smiled at Glorfindel as he reined in beside her, with an answering smile on his face.

"Good morrow, my lady; you are up early. Riding out?"

She nodded, "I thought to stretch Gwaiforn's legs � and see the sun rise over Tumladen. I would not have strayed far from the walls, only to the Lake."

He sat so sure in the saddle, like he'd been born there; An�ri� observed as his stallion bared his teeth, obviously senior to her own, and pranced, but the odd move out didn't disturb his rider at all. Rather, Glorfindel seemed to blend with the horse's movements until they were his own.

"Still, it is a dull ride on one's own � would you mind if I join you?"

Puzzled, she searched his face, but his sapphire eyes betrayed nothing next to the obvious desire to go with her.

"I would have thought you would wish to stay close to home, since my father had ridden out."

Glorfindel laughed, "He has � but Turgon hates being babysat. I have men enough on the gate, as does your father. I can afford a side-trip."

She was still unsure, not out of fear, but out of a sense of duty to her King.

"If it will not cause you trouble �"

He was amused by this. She obviously didn't want him to have to answer to Turgon. But what did one of the King's kin have to account for? He held much liberty, and knew the King would never begrudge him this.

"It will not. Ride with me, my lady."

His tone broke no more argument, and An�ri� got the feeling that his word was seldom overruled or undermined. This was a great Lord she would be riding next to; she would have to remind herself that. He was no youngling who didn't know what he wanted, but someone as sure of his course as Arien was of hers.

Silently, she lead Gwaiforn alongside Glorfindel's own steed, and they passed Salgant's gate in silence.

"Ecthelion told me a lot about you," he said after a while, as they neared Rog's iron gate, "he did not mention you were this silent."

An�ri� felt heat infuse her cheeks at that � why was her father speaking about her to his Lords? But then, when she thought about it, it did make sense. They were his friends, brothers-in-arms, nearest to kin. To them, she was a beloved niece.

"I am not usually at a loss for words," she said finally. "I do not usually ride with one of the Eleven either."

Ah, so there was the crux of the problem. Glorfindel would have to reprimand Ecthelion for not bringing his daughter into the company of his close friends.

"Well, this one of the Eleven is itching for a good ride."

He could see the way she was eyeing him now � him and his horse. The stallion he rode was larger, bulkier than her own. Slightly heavier, but more experienced. Gwaiforn could take him easily, should he allow it.

As if in answer, the older horse snorted impatiently, swishing his tail so that it smacked against his flanks. An�ri� looked at the quivering muscles of the animal and wondered if she was of the right mind to do this.

"We will miss the sunrise if we linger," Glorfindel said, just as they went past the Third Gate, "ride with me!"

And just like that he was off, the great white charger speeding down the cobblestones. It took An�ri� only a heartbeat to react, to press her heel against Gwaiforn's flank and loosen the reins. In the next, her horse exploded into a gallop after it's senior, his long legs catching up with the other easily.

The feeling was ecstasic. Every other horse she'd ridden so far had always been slow or clumsy or dainty. This one was built for speed, for charge; his muscles went taut as he pushed forward, his head bent low and his hooves flying across the road. It was different.

It was exciting.

An�ril� laughed when they only had one more Gate to go, the first, wooden construction of the seven levels, and leaned in the saddle as the road curved, helping her stallion as he pawned against the slippery path around the corner. Glorfindel kept track with her easily, his horse heaving deep breaths as they went, the bells on their reins chimming wildly, but not out of harmony.

The wood gate was half-open, but when Galdor saw Glorfindel, he gave a shout, and the object was pulled out of the way just in time for the two riders to pass through. He ran to the other side of the bridge above the gates, grinning.

"Don't let him win, An�ri�!"

She heard the call, and it made her laugh again; Gwaiforn seemed to speed up even more as his legs were brushed by the long green grass of the spring that was leaving Tumladen to give way to summer.

Glorfindel leaned low over his own horse.

"Loose the reins!"

She looked at him, her eyes questioning for a moment. Of course Ecthelion had never told her that. But Glorfindel found himself oddly � mellow. His features were pulled into a wide smile.

"Loose the reins completely � let him run!"

He knew the speed that horse could reach � far greater than that of his own stallion, despite the fact Gwainar was Gwaiforn's sire.

An�ri� looked ahead, to the shimmering waters of the Great Lake coming closer slowly. Too slow.

She decided to test the advice, the grip of her fingers slackening as the reins slipped free, unfurling to their fullest while she still held them. It was enough.

Gwaiforn sensed the freedom before she was done, and his body heaved as he FLEW across the grass, leaving Gwainar and Glorfindel far behind. An�ri�, momentarily taken aback, recovered and laughed, enjoying the feel of the wind that tried to outrun them, but failed. Her golden hair whipped away from her face and she knew she'd lost the hairpin.

They thundered onto the banks of the Lake, and Gwaiforn splashed into the shallows even as his rider tightened and shortened the reins again to slow and stop him; he side-stepped as she manevouered.

There was a laughing call and Glorfindel rode up, grinning from ear to ear. An�ri� turned in the saddle to look at him, smiling. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair windswept, but her eyes were shinning, he noticed. Sparkling, even without the sunlight.

Then Arien sailed over and Tumladen was free of shadows as they fled, giving way to colour. An�ri� turned to watch with wonder as the world woke before her eyes. Gwaiforn tossed his head from side to side when the sun glimmered and bounced off the water, and he rose to his hind quarters, neighing shrilly into the fresh morning air. His call echoed up into the skies, Gwainar answering it and doubling the voice.

The moment passed when the stallion smacked back into the water, spraying An�ri� lightly. She turned him around and they climbed the bank, trotting to where Glorfindel had dismounted.

The golden-haired lord smiled and placed a hand against the younger stallion's neck to pat him, before opening his arms up to help her down. An�ri� considered it for a second but then simply swung one leg over the saddle and slipped off unaided, smiling.

Glorfindel simply shrugged, the smile never faltering, "You are definitely your father's daughter. You ride like he did in his youth."

She looked up at him in wonder; Ecthelion rarely spoke about the time in Valinor.

"He tells me little about the days when he was young, so I would not know," she replied finally, sighing softly and turning back to Gwaiforn to reach for the satchel that held her breakfast. Behind her, she could hear Glorfindel handling some sort of material. When she turned, he had unrolled a blanket on the grass.

Her eyebrow arched at that, "The gift of foresight?"

He laughed, a rich sound that seemed to melt right with the light breeze curling the surface of the Great Lake, "Hardly; every good rider and warrior carries a blanket with him. You never know when you might need it."

An�ri� gave him credit for that, and joined him by lowering herself down upon it without hesitation.

"I had some food packed for me before I left," she explained when she saw him eyeing the satchel, "I do not intend to return soon; besides, Father shall be away until at least the noon meal. I feel bored in the big house."

"I can imagine that � but you are not bored now, I hope?"

The elleth laughed softly and shook her head, looking at him through long dark lashes, "No, that I am not."

It was the way her lips curved when she smiled, Glorfindel decided, that made her look both vulnerable and mysterious. She was like nothing he'd ever known before. He sensed a shift in the atmosphere as she placed the satchel down neatly; her lips seemed to be quivering.

"At least, I am not bored yet."

For a moment, he was flabbergasted, reeling around that bit of information while trying to figure out what it all meant � that was right before she couldn't contain her mirth anymore and she laughed, exposing her face to his view again, and he saw the mischevious twinkle in those emerald eyes.

He was up for the game immediately.

"You really should not have said that �"

She shrieked, still laughing, as he pounced, like a golden lion; scrambling away from him An�ri� jumped to her feet and ran, following the water's edge. She could hear him behind her.

"You'll have to be faster than that, my lord!" she taunted him while she darted out of his reach again, spinning so swiftly in place that none of his own warriors could have been faster. Glorfindel grumbled, his heart thrumming in his chest at the game he hadn't played in a long time.

Behind them, above, the city of Gondolin was welcoming the new day, and a group of riders was crossing the Tumladen; the pair by the lake did not see it.

An�ri� changed course again, barely avoiding his hands � she could feel his fingers touch her hair and the edge of her riding skirt as she darted towards the lake. On the peebles, she could gain some monumentum and veer off again.

Her plan went a little off-track when he suddenly closed in on her, his arms wrapping around her waist. She gave a little 'oof', when the air whushed out of her lungs as she was overcome and hauled back against his chest.

Normally, she wouldn't even be doing this with any ellon, much less one of the Eleven High Lords � but she couldn't help herself. There was something about Glorfindel that begged for this.

His chest was warm and solid behind her as they both stood to catch their breaths. An�ri� relaxed in his hold, placing her hands on his that were clasped over her stomach.

"Your father said one thing right � you're as predictable as the North wind!"

His voice rumbled close to her ear, and she shivered involuntarily, a delicious ripple that went down her spine and curled her toes in her boots. She was suddenly hyper-aware of the warrior behind her.

Her tremble didn't go unnoticed; Glorfindel could hardly ignore it since he was holding her. His grip slackened slightly but instead of slipping away from him she turned suddenly, surprising him � and herself, judging by the expression on her face. She was trapped in his hold, their faces inches apart.

An�ri� felt her breath hitch as she looked up, unblinking, into those blue eyes. They swirled somehow, deepening, darkening. It should have frightened her; this whole thing should have scared her. But how could she be afraid of something that felt so utterly right?

His lips parted; his breath smelled of honey and something else, but she couldn't say what.

"An�ri� �"

They nearly jumped out of their skins when Gwainar suddenly neighed; looking out to the west of the Great Lake, they spied a column of riders drawing near. They flew no colours, but the spiked helmets and gleaming armour didn't really leave room for doubt.

Parting, though it seemed as unnatural as holding their breaths, Glorfindel and An�ri� waited for Ecthelion and his men, holding their stallions steady.

They did not look at each other.

Calwa - beautiful

Chapter 5 - Chapter V

CHAPTER FIVE
Late Spring, 509 FA

The arrow buzzed dangerously close to the target.

Dangerously close � but not close enough, as it flew by and landed in the tree beside it with a 'thunk'.

An�ri� cursed unceremoniously, and whirled around with another choice word on her lips. She'd been trying to land an arrow in the target unsuccessfully for about an hour now, and her luck was nowhere close to being anything but ill. She didn't even know what she was doing wrong. She'd done everything just like she'd seen Lasgow teach the new recruits. Granted, it had been a while back, but she had no more luck than before.

Sighing as she calmed herself, the elleth slowly went to gather her misplaced arrows. The one that was in the tree had punched deep into the wood; she placed her bow down to get a better grip, her palm flat againt the trunk.

"I didn't know Ecthelion taught you how to shoot with a bow."

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the voice; looking back over her shoulder, An�ri� saw Glorfindel standing at the entrance to the stables. He looked as if he had just come in from riding.

"He did not," she answered after a moment, returning her attention to the arrow, "I taught myself."

If he was surprised by her answer, he didn't show it. Instead, Glorfindel crossed the distance to her and gently placed his hand over hers on the arrow.

"Here; let me."

Their eyes met. An�ri� lowered her gaze and slowly pulled her hand from his. The Elf Lord wasted no time in pulling the arrow out, inspecting the tip.

"You're in luck � it can be reused."

For that she gave him a glare and took the arrow from him.

"Thank you."

She turned and walked back to where she'd been standing previously. It was only when she turned around again to notch an arrow that she noticed he had not moved. She didn't even know why he had come in the first place.

"Are you not leaving?"

Glorfindel shook his head with a small smile, "No, I think I'll stay here."

He was standing dangerously close to the target. Given her recent luck with hitting that, An�ri� felt the need to warn him.

"I am not the most proficient of aims, Lord Glorfindel. I am certainly not Lord Duilin."

He arched an eyebrow.

"Is that a warning?"

"Call it what you will," she said, fixing the leather strap on her arm and carefully notching an arrow before lifting the bow again. She took longer to aim this time, her heart beating wildly in her chest. If she missed, if the wind blew � if the arrow hit Glorfindel by any chance � she would never be able to show her face in public again.

The weapon flew, and missed the target, flying too high. An�ri� let out a frustrated breath.

"Calm yourself, child," Glorfindel said, unclasping his cloak and letting it fall, "even the best miss sometime. Try again."

She met his gaze, but could not hold it; instead, she focused on the arrow again and lifted her bow to take another shot.

Her eyes met Glorfindel's again, and the sapphires unnerved her. She let go of the bowstring, the arrow flew � and narrowly missed Glorfindel as he swiftly leaned to avoid it.

Mortified, An�ri� felt colour drain from her face.

But the golden-haired lord simply laughed.

"Verily, you are very much like Lord Duilin � in his younger days. It took him yen to hit the target properly."

Her heart lodged in her throat, she could do no more than give a tiny nod with her head.

Glorfindel smiled and returned to her side, placing his sword against the wall of the stable and taking position next to her.

"I saw the arrow coming, An�ri�; you need not fear on my account."

Her green eyes were still wide, and doubtful. He chuckled and leaned close, "I won't tell your father if that's what you fear. Truly, if I wanted Ecthelion to mock me, I could find a better reason. I will not serve him such an opportunity, however. Standing too close to a target and barely avoiding an arrow? I'd never hear the end of it."

She still looked doubtful, but felt slightly better, so she took a breath and exhaled after a moment, slowly composing herself again.

Glorfindel, seeing she was ready, made her lift the bow without an arrow first.

"Let me see your stance, and how you pull the string."

She did as she was told, repeating the motion over and over again. He lifted her elbow a little higher.

"Make sure that you always draw back into the same position," he explained, "only when you're able to do that will your aim be sure. Now, notch an arrow."

She did as he told her, and then carefully pulled the string back. He placed his hand over hers, and the sudden contact made her loose the weapon prematurely; it disappeared into the bushes, sending some birds into the air.

"Alright, that was unforeseen," Glorfindel laughed, "again. I will do the same thing. This time, I want you to wait before you loose."

An�ri� tried not to focus on how close he was standing, or how gentle his touch was when he placed his hand over hers again.

"Always feel with your mouth and cheek," his voice murmured close to her ear; he tugged the string a bit more back, so that the feathers of the arrow tickled the corner of her mouth, "this is the proper position. The bow is bent enough."

She certainly wished it was, because her shoulders were starting to hurt. She did not say so, however.

Glorfindel stepped closer still, correcting the way the bow was positioned, lowering his head to be able to see what she saw. Her stance was good, her arms strong enough; he could not do much about her sight, however, if it were not what it should be.

"Don't think about anything else but the target," he breathed. An�ri� focused on her breathing first, and then the target at hand.

"Allow your breathing to become one with your heartbeat. See the target. See the arrow in the center. See it hit. Envision it. Feel it. Believe."

She closed her eyes momentarily. Just for a moment. His skin was warm on hers, his breath tickled her ear. But all the same, she thought she could follow his instructions.

Opening her eyes, the elleth let go of the bowstring with a snap; the arrow flew and pierced the center of the target.

An�ri� felt her lips part in a bright smile as she turned to Glorfindel with excitement.

"I did it!"

He had to laugh at her enthusiasm: "You did. Just remember, repeat the same thing every time. Given enough training, you'll be deadly with the bow soon."

Her smile was full of satisfaction this time as she went to retrieve the arrow. Glorfindel watched her move in the breeches and the shirt, wondering which of Ecthelion's chests she'd snuck these from. By the embroidery on the sleeves, he was sure her father would never miss this particular item of clothing, if he ever realized it was missing in the first place. Glorfindel could still recognise the work of his friend's mother.

"You said you taught yourself to shoot with the bow," he commented after she retrieved all the arrows and returned, "does Ecthelion know?"

He was certain he knew the answer already. An�ri�'s face only confirmed it as she looked down at her boots.

"He would not like it."

Undoubtedly, but who was he to spill her secrets?

"I never saw you," he commented with a small smile, allowing himself the small indulgence of satisfaction when she looked up with gratitude written all over her face. She could have asked for anything then, and he would have given it to her.

"Is it only the bow which holds your fancy?" he asked after a moment, as she was putting the weapon away.

Her smile was surer this time; more confident.

"I have only just begun with the bow, Lord Glorfindel. I am my father's daughter."

Which would mean only one thing.

An�ri� pulled a sword from its scabbard and returned with light steps. Glorfindel watched as she rolled her shoulders slightly and flicked her wrists couple of times, lightly swinging the weapon.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was already freeing his own longsword from its ornate scabbard; she looked at him at the sound of metal against leather.

"Show me."

She could feel her body tense in apprehension and anxiety. Gondolin's best warrior was standing, almost lazily, opposite her, the tip of his sword lightly placed against the ground. It was a heavy weapon, she could see that. But Glorfindel was taller and stronger than her. He would have no problem wielding it with one hand only if he had to. Her own sword seemed like a toothpick compared to his, and yet she could not turn down the challenge.

She never could.

With determination, she slowly turned her body sideways, both hands holding the sword as she faced Glorfindel. He had not moved as of yet, preferring to watch her. Sizing her up. Taking her in.

"Was the sword made for you?"

She shook her head, crouching a bit lower, "My father's squire. He was given a new one for his knighthood."

He gave a curt nod; and then he was suddenly moving. An�ri� had never seen Glorfindel fight before. Heard of it, yes, but never seen it.

It was the most frightening thing in her life.

She barely avoided direct contact with his blade as he came towards her, jumping to the side and bringing her blade up in defense as he spun around, giving her no respite. The blades clashed together loudly. She ducked and his sword slipped over her as she kicked at him, momentarily catching him off-guard.

The smile she gave him reminded him of her mother's cat, Larca.

"I never said I fight fair."

Glorfindel snorted, and went into the attack again. This time, she didn't have a moment to spare, his blade came upon her from all sides. She barely had enough wits to parry each hit.

But every time she did that, despite the vibration against her arms, she was aware of a blazingly obvious factor.

"You aren't fighting me!" she accused him as she spun away, dancing from his longer blade, "Your hits are weak."

Glorfindel answered by bringing the longsword down in a grand diagonal arc, forcing her backwards again.

An�ri� growled and launched herself into a half-hearted offensive, but he blocked every move with little effort. Her frustration grew.

"Lift your sword higher," he instructed as he spun, and she blocked, "a longsword like mine, as heavy as it is, can slip over. Higher!"

He was hardly even breathless. It angered her and fueled her hits; she managed to push his blade away and swing in a wide half-circle, forcing him to jump backwards.

"Hit harder! You're treating me like a woman."

Their blades clashed again furiously, and again she could sense, quite clearly now, how he checked the force behind the blow, pulling back before it was too much.

She feinted to the left before diving right, but he smacked the attack away like he would swat at a fly.

"Faster on your feet. You don't move enough."

She danced; the duel became faster then. Low, high, left, right, behind, spin, duck, everything. And all the while, no force behind his blows. None at all.

"I am not a child to be coddled!" she spat in his direction after he pushed her away using his blade, but it felt like a gentle shove, "Do you fight this way in the field?"

The bright eyes flashed, but she was nowhere near prepared for what happened next.

The first blow sent a vibration all the way up her arms and to her skull. The second sent her sword flying and she hadn't even seen it happen.

The cool steel of his sword was against her neck. It had been only seconds.

"You are exactly a child to be coddled," he told her in a quiet voice, the exertion not even visible. Perhaps it had not even been there in the first place.

An�ri� could feel her heartbeat in the vein right against his sword in her neck, like a hummingbird's wing as she fought for breath and words, watching him. Unbidden, tears rose to her eyes, but she was too proud to let them fall.

Glorfindel's expression changed, becoming unreadable, and he lowered his weapon, before turning away and sheathing it.

"You are still good, for a beginner. With time, as with your archery, you will improve."

She didn't know whether she felt humiliated or mortified that he had seen her and treated her thus, even if she had brought it upon herself. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, the elleth pushed her chin up.

"I will, Lord Glorfindel. Someday. I was not meant to run a household."

He let out a soft sigh and turned to look at her over his shoulder.

Her emerald green eyes were hard again: "Someday, I will hold a sword to your throat. This I swear to you."

For an odd second, he believed her. She looked so fierce standing there, her hair escaping the braid it had been captured in, her cheeks flushed, her head raised proudly. Proud as only a Noldo could be.

And his Vanya blood doubted.

"Perhaps."

He left without another word, leaving her there. An�ri� braced herself against the wall and took deep, calming breaths, trying to slow her heart. Her eyes went to where she had seen him last, only moments before. She did not understand this effect he had on her.

And she still did not know why he had come.

Chapter 6 - Chapter VI

CHAPTER SIX
Early Summer, 509 FA
Tarnin Austa

It was an hour before sunrise when An�ri� heard the soft knock on her door and Ecthelion looked in. She smiled and stood, crossing the room and taking his offered hand, letting him lead her out of the house.

It was the Gates of Summer festival; this morning, the first day of summer would be welcomed by the Gondolindrim. They had begun their formal feast at midnight, though An�ri� had slipped away silently to spend some time on her own. Her thoughts were slightly jumbled right now, what with everything going on around her, and inside her.

Since the impromptu duel with Glorfindel, they'd never been alone again, not like then. That did not mean they did not spend time together: Glorfindel was a frequent visitor to Ecthelion's house, and Ecthelion often returned the favour, sometimes with An�ri� by his side.

Other than that, the Lord of the Golden Flower seemed to materialize close-by wherever she went. If she was with Idril, he would be there conversing with Tuor or playing with E�rendil. If she rode out with Gwaiforn she was always escorted now, by various warriors, sometimes his own. He never rode with her anymore, but An�ri� felt his eyes on her anyway.

It was not unpleasant; the attention he was giving her pleased her as well as frightened her slightly. He was, after all, a few hundreds of years older than her, and she had just come off-age. But for all it was worth, he was the first her eyes sought out when she entered a gathering area, or rode down the street, or sat with Idril. She felt drawn to him, like a moth to the flames: she could not get enough of his presence

Tonight, she'd decided against staying near to him. Ecthelion was too close, and his eyes saw too much. An�ri� did not know where she stood with Glorfindel, she was not yet sure of herself, to allow the two men to met over the issue. Hence, her self-imposed solitude didn't seem so bad to her, after a few hours had passed.

Now though, her father was leading her towards the East Wall, where the majority, if not all, of the Gondolindrim were already gathered. Her hand was craddled at his elbow as they greeted the Elves they passed with silent nods, as none were permitted to speak before sunrise.

Her eyes moved over the faces of the gathered, in unconscious search. The pair of blues she'd been looking for were waiting for her; there was a momentary tightness in her chest when she realised Ecthelion meant to stand beside Glorfindel, but it disappeared as soon as it had come.

He was wearing the colours of his house, with a mantle threaded with gold across his shoulders; there were celandines sprayed across it, like he had taken a field in spring and drapped it over himself. And yet, she could see that despite the regal, richly embroidered tunic and soft leggings, his boots were sturdy, and could kill if he hit someone with them. His vambraces, damascened with gold, were a shocking reminder that he remained, first and foremost, a warrior. An�ri� was painfully more aware of Glorfindel than she was of Ecthelion beside her.

She felt his eyes appraise her but did not acknowledge it, rather allowing her father to greet him in silence. Her greeting was a dip of the knees.

With a touch to her shoulder, her father suddenly excused himself, and she could see his face was tightly controlled � like he had noticed something bad, and needed to take care of it. She watched him leave, and Egalmoth joined him, but before they were out of sight An�ri� also noticed Duilin move away from the gathered. Looking at Turgon, she couldn't see anything amis; he was the same as ever.

Warm fingers touched her hand, and An�ri� turned her head to look back at Glorfindel. His eyes reassured her, as did the smile he gave her and the lightest touch on her hand as he took hold of it. She did not pull away, not from the feeling of safety that drapped over her, more effectively than even his mantle could ever do.

Of course. If anything would be wrong, they would have alerted Glorfindel as well. And all other Lords for that matter, the first one being Turgon. That was the silent message he had conveyed to her through a look, a smile, a touch.

Comforted, she finally returned his smile, and they turned as one when a single bird began to sing.

Across Tumladen, the mountain peaks were starting to glow as Arien's boat sailed higher and higher to clear them. More and more birds joined in the song. An�ri� felt the hearts of the Gondolindrim become one beat as they waited for summer to finally arrive.

Then the Sun climbed over the mountains, signaling a new day, and all the voices on the wall broke into song.

They sang to Elbereth, for bringing them the stars when they'd first woken, and to Eru for creating Arda. They sang to Arien and to Summer. The silver lamps were doused, as were the jeweled lights of many colours, because they would not be needed before dusk again. Then the nation split, many heading to the Square of Folkwell, to pause under the Arch of Ingw� and offer prayer for those of their kin remaining in Valinor, before they followed the Road of Arches to the King's Square. The rest filled down the Alley of Roses, where the ellith plucked the flowers to wind them in their hair.

An�ri� could not see her father, nor Egalmoth or Duilin, but Glorfindel kept a sure hold on her and he followed after Turgon. Her hand remained in his, but none paid them any heed, for they were all anxious and waiting to break their fast together on the first goods of Summer in front of the royal palace.

The Tower of Turgon rose high into the air, above the fresh morning mists, gleaming like a spike in the early rays. Arien's light caught in the waters of the fountain sitting across from the tower, the spray misting the air further, but adding a coolness to it that would remain throughout the day, no matter the temperature.

Tables had been set upon the square, and food prepared, though not everyone could be seated. The King and his Lords, with their closest kin, would eat there.

That was where Glorfindel was leading An�ri�, and she followed without question; Idril caught her eye and winked, smiling.

But the solemn morning was broken when little E�rendil spied them, and escaped his mother's grasp to run towards An�ri�. Laughing, the elleth freed her hand from Glorfindel's and knelt to be the boy's height, opening her arms as he flung himself at her.

"Ann�, Ann�! Atar promised to make me a sword!"

Even though E�rendil was nearly seven, he was lithe of build and An�ri� could lift him easily, so she stood, settling him on her hip and smiling through his gushing words.

"Has he now? Well, I say it is about time! A mighty warrior like yourself needs a trusted sword."

The boy beamed and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close, earning himself compliments and gentle exclamations when he kissed her cheek. An�ri� only smiled brighter and held him tight.

"I've missed you, Ann�," he told her as she carried him towards the table, always conscious of Glorfindel's soothing presence close-by, "you have not visited me in a long time."

There was accusation in his voice, and An�ri� assumed a solemn expression, "Forgive me, my Prince � I was delayed. After today, I promise you, I shall come by every day to spend time with you. Perhaps you will ride with me on Gwaiforn."

E�rendil's eyes lit up at that, "The big charger Altatar gave you?"

She chuckled and nodded, "Yes; I shall bring him to you someday."

"And no, E�rendil, you will not be getting one of your own before you are well-seated on your pony," Tuor's voice floated to them as the Lord of the Wing moved closer, with a patronising smile, taking his son from An�ri� among the boy's complaints, "you are not THAT great of a warrior yet. But you will be, someday."

That distracted him and E�rendil spent the next half an hour questioning his father on how to become a warrior as great as he, or uncles Ecthelion and Glorfindel.

An�ri� watched them with a fond smile, only becoming aware of her surroundings again when Glorfindel lightly touched her arm.

"Shall we have a seat? It will be a long day, I believe breakfast is in order."

There was humor in his voice and An�ri� could not find it in her to argue. With one of his hands on the small of her back warming her, she let him lead her to her seat, which was opposite Idril. To her left the chair was empty, obviously waiting for her father. Glorfindel sat down on her right.

Turgon greeted the gathered with brief words of thank you and of blessing, and then sat down so they could enjoy the meal. An�ri� was into her second helping of strawberry jam and sweet white bread, chatting amiably with Idril and very much aware of Glorfindel's foot lightly touching her own under the table when Ecthelion arrived.

He kissed his daughter's cheek as he sat down, and first promised E�rendil he would play him the new composition he'd made before he was able to speak in soft murmurs with Turgon. While An�ri� was curious, her attention was with Glorfindel, who despite successfully diverting E�rendil's attention to himself had shifted his foot.

Glad for a small respite, An�ri� was on her feet immediately once Elwen slipped to her side and murmured that the ellith would be fixing the flower wreaths and choosing their warriors before noon. Taking the raven-haired elleth's hand, among general laughter, An�ri� ran to the fountain on light feet, with many other unwed maidens.

Settling on the edge of the water, the ellith went to work while the tables were pushed back into the shade of the palace. E�rendil escaped his parents once more and when Idril turned to look for him, she saw him sitting in An�ri�'s lap while the elleth held him fast and was showing him something in the water.

"My grandson loves your daughter," Turgon said to Ecthelion as they watched the same scene, just as E�rendil stepped onto the fountain ledge and stretched his arms high, obviously explaining something to the ellith, who were laughing and clapping enthusiastically.

Ecthelion could only smile, "And she loves him, with all her heart. I hope to see her nurse her own son someday. She would make a fine mother."

There was a shriek and a splash, but Tuor stayed Idril as she meant to rush forward, motioning with a hand: it had been the flower basket that had gone into the water. An�ri� had snatched E�rendil away just in time.

Galdor came behind Ecthelion and nudged him, and grudgingly, though laughing, the Lord pulled his flute out, and Salgant shifted closer with his harp. They began playing together while the ellith picked up the tune and sang, and finished the crowns of flowers.

Once the two musicians saw that, their melody changed to a livelier, almost teasing song that sent the ellith running. The next few hours were then spent in easy relaxation for the elders and married couples, while the unwed filled the streets of Gondolin with song, flowers, and whispers.

An�ri� had been pestered into giving her crown to E�rendil, but she was not mad. The child was simply too precious to deny, though she had a feeling Idril would be scolding him, and her as well once she found her.

So she slipped away silently, avoiding Duilin's son Duinhir who she spied coming in her general direction, and headed to Gar Ainion, where Idril and Tuor had been wed. The temple was silent and cool after the blazing sun from outside, and she sighed softly, sitting against one of the high pillars that surrounded the highest spot in Gondolin.

There were footsteps, not long after, the soft, but sure fall of warrior feet. It could have been her father, yet An�ri� could hear his flute singing outside still, not far from where she was now. The light that fell through the windows shimmered and danced lightly, as if it had bounced off a glimmering, intricately-designed surface.

Turning her head and looking at Glorfindel, she smiled softly.

The warrior smiled in return and took a seat to her side.

"Duinhir told me he saw you coming this way, but he also said that he lost sight of you."

An�ri�, still smiling, looked at her hands, folded in her lap.

"He did see me, and I saw him, but I did not desire his company at that moment. I mingled with a few other ellith before coming here."

They were silent then for a while, listening to Ecthelion's flute and Salgant's harp, and to their own soft breathing. Nothing else disturbed the peace of Gar Ainion.

It was Glorfindel who broke the silence again.

"Idril is quite cross with you, you know, because you gave your crown to E�rendil. Tuor wasn't too pleased either."

His voice was neutral, she noted, but that meant nothing to her. Instead she smiled: "He begged for it so sweetly! I could not refuse him. There will always be a special place for him in my heart, no matter what. He is the brother I never had. I can only hope his parents won't handle him too strictly."

Glorfindel chuckled, "Of course not. The King looked mildly amused, and E�rendil saw that. He has sought his protection. All is well."

An�ri� smiled more and looked at him again, "Then I am glad."

Then there was silence again, but not uncomfortable, as they gazed into each other's eyes. Had anyone entered the temple then, they would have seen two Elves as still as statues, as the marble underneath them, conversing through their eyes. No words were given, but none were necessary.

"Do you feel it?" the elleth asked suddenly, in a whisper, not breaking the shared gaze, "It is � there is something on the air."

He nodded; he'd felt it too. And in the silence of Gar Ainion, it was even more pronounced than before on the King's square. Shifting slightly, the rustle of fabric a gentle breeze, Glorfindel's boot touched her slipper. There they remained while Ecthelion's melody turned to 'The Ride of Orom�'.

An�ri� broke the gaze first, looking down into her lap again, "I have no crown to give anymore."

"It does not matter to me."

She smiled shyly when she looked up again, and Glorfindel realised she had not finished; his eyes fell on her hands. There, in her cupped palms, was a single celandine.

He could feel the smile growing on his face, as her cheeks were tinted with rose dust.

"They were all gone but the ones in the crown; E�rendil graciously allowed me to take one of his. He said that he would be very cross with me if I gave it to Duinhir, who would be better off with a daisy, to go with his white tunic, but if I should give it to you, then he would not object."

The seriousness in her voice, combined with the innocent words spoken by a young boy, made Glorfindel laugh softly. Stretching his arms and flexing the muscles there after holding still for so long, he cupped her hands with his own gently.

An�ri� took a breath sharply, feeling her heartbeat quicken as she whispered: "I � I have never felt this way in my life."

Her voice trembled ever so slightly; he guessed she'd been trying to hide it. His smile softened, becoming reassuring.

"Nor have I � but we will learn together. I will teach you what I know, if you will let me."

Her only answer was another shy smile, and after a few more moments in the shades of Gar Ainion, Glorfindel stood and helped her to her feet. They ventured out together, her hand firmly in his as they rejoined the festivities. E�rendil spotted An�ri� first and she had to let go of Glorfindel's hand again so she could care for the boy properly.

But the Lord of the Golden Flower was never far away.

Idril caught her by the elbow as E�rendil darted ahead, and An�ri� paused for a brief moment, in breathless laughter.

"I would have scolded you for giving my son your crown but it seems I do not have to," the Princess murmured. The two golden-haired ellith let their eyes travel to where Glorfindel had just scooped E�rendil into his arms and tossed him in the air: when the boy landed safely and clung to the Lord, he pointed to a real celandine flower pinned by the brooch to the mantle.

"Your son was most gracious in allowing me to keep that one," Ecthelion's daughter said with a serious face. Idril shook her head and, with a nudge, let An�ri� run forward, a satisfied smile on her face. Tuor wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder as they watched E�rendil practically jump from Glorfindel's arms to An�ri�'s.

To the side, Maeglin retreated into the shadows with a sneer on his face. They would see no more of him tonight.

The dancing began when Arien turned her boat west, and Ecthelion took a small pause to regain his breath, and seek his daughter out.

Over the rim of his glass, he could see her laughing as she passed under the joint hands of another couple with Duinhir behind her. She danced with Egalmoth as well as Rog, Hendor and Lasgow as the music continued. There were many others who claimed her hand during various dances.

But when he took his flute up again and played 'Winds of Manw�', it was Glorfindel who lead her onto the dance floor. Despite the music he was producing, Ecthelion was not so preoccupied to not notice the subtle change in his daughter.

For as long as he could remember, An�ri� had always been uncomfortable while dancing, never relaxing fully. There had always been that straight line of her back which hindered the otherwise graceful moves.

But with Glorfindel, she glided, floated, as if she were not walking at all. When the Lord placed his hands on her waist to lift her into the air, her moves were that of an experienced dancer. Glorfindel placed her down again and even as she turned, her hand sought his so that they moved as one.

She depended on him to be where he was supposed to be when she came out of a figure, Ecthelion realised; she was counting on him to make his moves right.

She trusted him.

The song ended and the dancers applauded, and while Ecthelion took his bows, his grey eyes followed his daughter as she so easily leaned in to say something in Glorfindel's ear before moving off the dance floor towards the tables. The Lord of the Golden flower shifted so that he hovered close to her when they walked, not to cage her but to protect her.

And Ecthelion, despite the foreboding in his heart, smiled.

Chapter 7 - Chapter VII

CHAPTER SEVEN
Early Autumn of 509, FA

The day was warm, despite the fact autumn would begin soon and summer was saying farewell. After spending so much time indoors due to storms, An�ri� had escaped into her mother's gardens. She'd climbed into the boughs of an old apple tree, settling against a branch, one of her feet dangling over the edge.

It was easy to climb despite the fact that her father thought it impossible in a dress; An�ri� giggled whenever she remembered his expression after seeing her among the branches for the first time.

Placing the book against her uplifted leg, An�ri� thought back on the long summer months. Months spent riding Gwaiforn and exploring with little E�rendil, pleasant evenings with her father, and Glorfindel's increased presence in her life.

She couldn't believe the turn her life had taken. Only months before, she'd been willing to bet the only chance of happiness she had was if she would train as a swordswoman of the Fountain. Now, even though a part of her still yearned for that, the bigger part was too captured with Glorfindel, and the possibilities this opened.

They had grown closer through the time that passed. She knew him better know, though she did not fool herself into thinking she knew all there was to him. But she understood at least the topmost layer. And for her part, An�ri� hoped Glorfindel understood some of her as well.

There was still much she had to learn, to see and to do, but she was confident that she would have Glorfindel by her side throughout most of that. For surely, this what she felt for him was not just a simple infatuation?

Ecthelion had not spoken much to her about bonding, neither had Cealea as she had been taken and killed a long time before her daughter's coming off-age ceremony, but she had told the young elleth enough to allow her at least speculations.

Before the Dawn of Time, when Eru and his Valar had created Arda, each Elf chose their soul mate from the threads intervowing, interloping and flowing freely. And once they were born to the circles of this world, they remained forever in search for that one companion to their heart, their other half.

An�ri� did not understand much of that, since her memory was murky, having been quite young when Cealea had spoken of this to her as substitute for a bedtime story, but it was enough to spike her curiosity and have her think.

Obviously, there was more to what she shared with Glorfindel than simple infatuation. He was, after all older, than her, and wiser; he would have known not to toy with her affections. But sometimes they even moved in syncronisation now, or turned right before the other entered a room. There were small gestures that kept telling her that she was missing something, something important.

Whatever it was, for now she still had Glorfindel's company. And she was thankful for that at least.

Soft footsteps on the grass below alerted An�ri� to a visitor, and she turned her gaze down from the branches.

Ecthelion was looking up at her with an amused expression.

"I seem to have acquired a new fruit on my tree � would it like to come down and join me?"

She laughed softly, "You are very funny, Atar; I am no fruit. I was reading a book before you came here."

"And you had to climb into a tree? What is wrong with the gazebo, or even the grass?"

She bit back a smile, "Quite the ordinary and well, boring, if you must know. And from here at least, I have a nice view."

The Lord of the Fountain shook his head and motioned for her to come down again, "Come spend some time with your father, yendenya; I feel as though I am not giving you enough time in the day."

Her smile softened and she dropped her book down first before landing on the grass herself in a flourish of her skirt. Grinning and smoothing it out, An�ri� flipped the heavy braid of her hair onto her back.

"Here I am, Atar. You wished to speak with me?"

He smiled, "Indeed; leave the book, you might wish to return to it later. Walk with me for now."

An�ri� smiled and fell in-step with her father, padding barefoot over the grass.

It was some time before he spoke, and they had ventured deep into the orchards by then.

"Duilin has spoken to me, my sweet; it would seem you have been spending time with his son."

An�ri� schooled her features so she would not grimace. Yes, that was true, though she was only doing it on Tuor's request, not of her own volition. While she respected and admired Duinhir, she did not think she could spend a whole day with him.

"I have been, he is a nice companion. I think of him as an older brother, like Idril's son is my younger one."

Ecthelion nodded to himself; that was how he suspected things to stand. Duilin had commented that his son never approached An�ri� prior to her allowing it, and it was clear the elleth wished she were with someone else.

"And yet you obviously spend far less time at the house now than before. Is there anything you would like to tell me?"

She hesitated, unsure. Her teeth worried against her bottom lip, and Ecthelion wondered, not for the first time, just what the future held for his daughter.

"Would you like to ask me anything?" he changed his question, his tone gentle.

Ever since his wife's death, Ecthelion had tried being both father and mother to his growing child, and yet he now realised that perhaps he had lapsed in some departments, when it was sore time for the drawers to be opened and cleaned. It was the only way she would know what to expect of life after all.

She turned her green eyes to him again, still biting her lower lip lightly.

"How � Atar, what was it like when you first met Amm�?"

The question shouldn't have surprised him really. An�ri� knew precious little of either his or Cealea's life prior to Gondolin, and Ecthelion didn't really want to change that. However, sensing that she might perhaps open up to him more if he opened up to her, he decided to tell her at least the romantic aspects of the story.

"Your mother and I both called Tirion our home," he began, continuing their leisurely stroll under the boughs of the orchard trees, "yet we did not move in the same circles at first. You see, I was older than Cealea by a few yen before we met."

An�ri� listened with wide eyes, almost seeing the story unfold in her mind.

"I first met her, unintentionally, when she was little more than a young girl, not even in her proper teens yet. She was brought to the hunting festivities by her parents, who had stayed for a time with your distant kin, the Vanyar.

I did not think much about her then; she was, after all, a girl who could not be betrothed yet, much less considered for marriage, and she held no interest for me. It sounds harsh in a way, but such was the time in Valinor. We did not fight, seldom quarreled, but attended various festivals and banquets and tried to find our life mate."

They had reached the large fountain in the middle of the gardens by then; An�ri� sat down on it's edge and looked at her father, who remained standing, gazing off into the distance as if reliving the events long-past.

"When next I met your mother, she was just before her coming off-age ceremony. At that time, Turgon had already wedded, and Idril had just been born.

Your mother was lovely, An�ri�; you have inherrited most of her looks, but I wish there was less me in you. You remember her, there was none more graceful than her to my eyes."

She remembered. Her father had dotted on Cealea and sometimes they would forget anyone else was around them as they stood with their hands touching or arms wrapped around each other's waists.

"I befriended her then, as she was to attend the hunt with Orom�. We bonded quickly, sharing the same interests, or well many of the same. She invited me to the ceremony that followed a month or so later, and I accepted gladly. There is not much else to say next to the fact that, during Tarnin Austa that summer, she chose me for her warrior."

An�ri� felt her lips pulling into a wide smile as she thought about that. Cealea had always been head-strong, despite her generally gentle nature. She had been softly-spoken and would seem timid at times, but her daughter � and her husband � both knew that when she put her mind to something there was no one who could stop her. So it was easy to imagine the young golden-haired elleth picking Ecthelion for her suitor, despite possible disapproval from her parents.

"What did her parents say?"

Ecthelion bit back a smile; of course she would ask that.

"They were � well, they were very welcoming."

The eyes that reminded him so much of Cealea narrowed into slits, and he saw one of her hands dip into the water of the fountain.

"You are not a very good liar, Atar; tell me the truth. The way you say it just now makes me think they disapproved of you."

An�ri� blinked when she saw the expression on her father's face become sheepish.

"They DISAPPROVED?"

He laughed at the disbelief colouring her voice and so obvious on her face, shaking his head. His daughter knew precious little about these things. It really was high time they spoke about them.

"Try and imagine this from their perspective, yendenya: my lineage was noble, yes, and I came from a good house. But they had always hoped their daughter would wed a Vanya and thus strengthen what little of that blood she had with her child. And then your mother placed the wreath of summer flowers onto my head, me, who am so obviously Noldo in both look and mind. You, who have known only one people, cannot be blamed if you do not understand. But perhaps you have read through my history books on the matter?"

She was eyeing him in confusion: "On the matter of tribes? I know all that; the Vanyar are supposedly the fairest of our kind, and they did not forsake Valinor. The Teleri are the most musical of the Elves, the less violent. And the Noldor are reputedly bad with anger management."

Ecthelion laughed, placing one boot against the fountain edge and resting his arms on his knee.

"Very good; that is true, yes. And you don't know this, but I was quite typically Noldo when I was younger. Perhaps Egalmoth or Rog can tell you more of those days; I was as hot-headed as any other youth."

An�ri� had a hard time believeing her father when he spoke about that. He was always stoic, a proven warrior and a wise counsellor. But then they were all different in the days prior to their first battles � was it so hard to imagine?

To her it was.

"So they did not approve of you, yet you still married her."

Ecthelion nodded, "After a time yes � in a fashion. They never did forgive me entirely, but I was blessed with your mother's love, and she was my life-mate, so they could not object afterwards."

An�ri� looked into the water and studied their reflections for a moment, although they morphed into what her imagination perceived to be her parents' wedding.

"Was it beautiful? The ceremony?"

When her father laughed again, she knew there was something more that she hadn't picked up.

"In a way, yes. I did not tell you the full story. I managed to get into a heated quarrel with your grandfather prior to the betrothal. Of course he chucked me out of his house and forbade me from coming close to his daughter again. It was a natural thing to do, something I would probably do to any of your suitors if it came to pass."

His daughter was staring at him with her mouth open. Ecthelion curbed his mirth.

"Cealea did much to tame my temper; I became a better man by marrying her. But I did not do it with a big ceremony and hundreds of guests. She came to me one night, about a month into our separation. She did not leave my side since then, not until her passing."

An�ri� wondered whether her mother would have done the same years later; Cealea didn't seem like a person who did rash things. Maybe she'd been different in her youth. More impulsive.

"But � did her parents not want her back? Or well, since they could not �"

"You are asking if they wished to start a feud. Yes, they did. We were summoned before the High King to account for our actions. But Cealea had gained much love from those I call my brothers by then; I had them behind me, without Tuor and Maeglin of course. Finw� could hardly go against his own kin when Turgon spoke up, who was his grandson.

Perhaps it would have gone ill even then, though, if Artanis had not spoken in our defense."

An�ri� frowned, "Artanis?"

Ecthelion smiled: "The daughter of Finarfin; she was very beautiful. It is said that the Light of the Two Trees of Valinor lives in her hair and face. But she is also very wise, and her eyes can see a person's most hidden thoughts.

She was much loved and respected in Tirion, and it was her voice that allowed me to walk away with your mother and prevented a feud."

She was in awe; someone so powerful, and her father had known her?

"What happened to Artanis?"

He chuckled: "I thought you wanted to hear about my love story? Oh, very well. Artanis crossed the Sea to Middle Earth, but where she is now, I cannot say."

There was much she could ponder on. It was obvious that the matter of life-mates was not taken lightly by her people, something she had already guessed and instinctively turned to. But how did you know it was your life-mate you were bonding with?

"Atar, how did you know Amm� was the One for you?"

Ecthelion paused, thinking back to the time when he had first realised the depth of his feelings for Cealea. How to put that in words?

"When you meet your life-mate," he began, shifting so that he was seated next to An�ri� now, "you will know. There will be no one else more beautiful to you, no one who you will be able to trust like your Chosen One. You shall feel complete in his presence, protected and whole.

Perhaps you do not quite know where you fit in, here in Gondolin now. But once you find the One, that will not be a problem anymore. Nothing else will matter, except him."

She bit her lower lip again and looked into the water. She saw her father looking at her in their reflections, and An�ri� wished she could ask him so much more � but something stayed her thoughts.

"Will I feel as though no matter what I do or say with him, it is right?"

Ecthelion hid the small smile that threatened to expose him; he was finally gaining ground.

"Yes; oft times you will also be able to know what he is thinking, or what he will do. You will know your life-mate as good as you know yourself. That is why he will be your other half, as you will be his."

She nodded, lost in thought, her fingers absent-mindedly skimming across the surface of the water.

Ecthelion shifted closer to her and lightly touched her chin, lifting her face again.

"An�ri�, I will not force you to tell me anything, just know that I love you and will respect your decision. I have seen, first-hand, what can happen if a parent steps between those who were meant to be. I will not hinder you, or your heart's desire. You need not fear that I shall make the same mistakes as my in-laws."

This brought a smile to her face; An�ri� stretched her arms and Ecthelion pulled her to him into an embrace, lightly kissing the top of her head as she snuggled against him.

"Is it safe to say I will be able to meet your elusive life-mate soon, then?"

She started and looked up, wondering if he knew; her father's grey eyes were clear, and slightly mischevious, a sure warning sign.

"I � I believe so. You promise not to be cross with either of us?"

Ecthelion wove an errant strand of her hair back into her braid.

"Of course not. I might grumble and mutter under my breath, but you are just as stubborn as your mother. Coupled with my Noldo blood, that is almost recipe for disaster.

But have no fear, I do not fool myself that I'd be able to dissuade Glorfindel from a very straight, clear path. There is a reason why he volunteered to break Gwaiforn for you."

At the look on his daughter's face, Ecthelion doubled over laughing and, with a final kiss to her brow, stood.

"It is a father's job to know what goes on in his daughter's life. Trust me, An�ri� � before I do Glorfindel any harm, he must first hurt you in some way. And I have a feeling he would give his swordarm to prevent that from happening."

He left her there by the fountain, humming a tune to himself as he returned to the house; he would have to inspect the Gate soon enough, but knowing he was right when it came to his daughter brought a smile to Ecthelion's face.

Atar - Quenya, dad
Amm� - Quenya, mum
Artanis - Quenya, noble woman

Chapter 8 - Chapter VIII

CHAPTER EIGHT
Late Autumn of 509, FA

Noss� Laurel�t�o was not as large as Ecthelion's abode, which was actually two houses joint by a closed bridge, but it was large enough. Storied, with turrets rising at the sides, its far wall merging with Gondolin's outer defences and looking over the lower levels and Tumladen, it had been built from sand-coloured stone so that it indeed seemed to be made of gold.

It housed first-class stables at the very bottom, with large destriers and chargers, as well as work horses and scouting mares beside them. There was also a winter garden, blocked by the wild weather by glass doors that could be opened during summer.

The inside was lavishly, yet tastefully decorated, with the emblem of the blazing sun upon a field of green-blue on the wall opposite the main entrance. It covered the stones from floor to the ceiling, standing behind the rail which framed the upper story and to which twin sets of stairs lead. The sun, golden flowers and also a roaring lion � a symbol Glorfindel had adapted when he first came to Middle Earth, as Ecthelion explained � were prominent features throughout the rest of the house as well.

It was large, and yet it gave the feeling of comfort and safety.

Ecthelion, after being gone for a few days with his warriors in training, had asked Glorfindel if the evening planned at Noss� Ehtel�o could be held at the Golden Flower, a suggestion which was met with much enthusiasm and agreement.

So now, next to Ecthelion and An�ri�, Glorfindel was hosting Egalmoth and his wife, Tuor and Idril and also Galdor. The others were either disinclined to come � mostly it was Maeglin's doing, but they all remained silent about it � or they did not have the time. One of the latter was Turgon, who had politely declined the invitation because he had promised his grandson that they would look for treasure in the palace.

The company was small enough for comfort and big enough for fun, because they were fast friends and nothing seemed dull when they were about.

They were also a flourish of colours decipting their houses, blue, white, grey, green, red.

The golden threads in Glorfindel's tunic shimmered in the light as he leaned close to speak with Ecthelion while Idril and An�ri� chatted animately about E�rendil's upcoming beggeting day.

"You have brought your flute, my friend?"

The Lord of the Fountain smiled and indicated over his shoulder, to where he had placed the instrument upon one of the cupboards.

"As you asked of me, of course. Would you like me to play after dinner?"

"Perhaps not directly after, but sometime during the evening, absolutely," Glorfindel agreed with a smile, "on my count, we have eight people here, but six of them, at least, would be dancers."

Ecthelion nodded, "Galdor can play on the wooden whistles he enjoys so much. He always carries those with him."

Idril, who had been subtly eavesdropping, joined in, "That is a marvelous idea, my lords. And since dinner is practically finished, might I suggest we move to the sitting area already? Unless of course, our Lord of the Golden Flower has more food prepared."

They shared a laugh and Glorfindel denied any more food graciously, then stood and offered Idril a hand, something that made her roll her eyes in a very mortal fashion, but accept anyway. Tuor looked at Egalmoth who shrugged and lightly touched An�ri�'s shoulder so she stood and took his hand, while his wife joined the Prince.

"You are either playing a game I do not understand, or being a fool," Idril said to Glorfindel, "you should have gone for the other golden-haired elleth present tonight."

"Ah, but Ecthelion's eyes see too much sometimes," he replied as he lead her to a cushioned seat.

To this, she simply sighed: "And here they say a man's greatest strength is his courage. My dear golden lion, you know nothing of that if you allow propriety to cloud your judgement."

Egalmoth laughed softly as he came to them, leading An�ri� to a near-by chair.

Tuor grinned behind him, feeling very much at ease, "Are you taking lessons from my wife, Flower Lord? Take care, she's feisty."

There was a smack, but Idril never moved. In fact she looked as taken aback as her husband, who rubbed the back of his head and grinned sheepishly at Lalaith. Egalmoth's wife 'hmphed' and swept past him dramatically, seating herself between the other two women in a flourish.

"Tuor my young friend, I think you've put your foot in it," Glorfindel exclaimed solemnly, but that only served to make them all laugh.

Galdor and Ecthelion joined them.

"How about a little music for starters, so the lovely Lady of the Rainbow doesn't give our Prince too many headaches?" the first of the musicians asked, pulling a whistle out.

An�ri� was first to agree to that, and moments later a lively melody streamed through the room, the Elves laughing or humming with it while they clapped in rhythm, simply enjoying the music. Dancing was not required for them to have a good time, although it livened the evening up quite a bit.

Therefore, before Galdor could run entirely out of breath, Ecthelion stopped him and asked if the chairs could be moved aside and the tables pushed to the walls, so that a small cleared space appeared, just enough for their purposes.

This time, with a mischevious smile of her own and a wink at An�ri�, it was Idril who took Glorfindel's hand and lead him to the makeshift dance floor. They danced alone for a few turns while the others observed, but then Lalaith pulled Tuor behind her and Egalmoth bowed before An�ri�. Moments later, the six people were already holding hands and spinning in a loose circle while the flute and whistle gave them wings.

At the end of the song, they applauded, and Galdor called for wine, which was brought to him by a shy serving elleth.

"Careful Glorfindel, or he'll drink you dry!" Ecthelion joked, and they laughed again. But drinks were being served all around and they took a brief pause, sipping at them, before urging Galdor to put his goblet down already.

"I have never met a more demanding group in my life!" he exclaimed, but slammed the cup down anyway and took a seat, peeling the velvet off one of the chairs. No one stopped him because the moment his hands smacked against the wood, he had a makeshift drum.

Ecthelion placed his flute against his lips again and looked at Galdor, who seemed to be thinking for a moment too long, because his friend shook his head and blew a sharp note on his instrument.

Galdor fell into a thundering rhythm while the dancers laughed and moved around the floor to switch partners. The ellyn played the role of Tulkas this time around, and the ellith Nessa.

Ta da dum, ta da dum, ta da da da da da dum! went the drum while the flute seemed to skip right between the beats, just as the ellith seemed to fly between their partners.

Colours flashed, hair flew, the men's feet smacked against the floor in rhythm while the women lightly skipped, almost on their toes, twirling to the sound of the flute.

'Tulkas and Nessa' came to an end with a cascade of beats and a shrill cry of the flute. Egalmoth, in good humor, complained that Idril had stepped on his foot, which earned him a smack on the arm from the Princess.

"I will really step on it if you do not hold that tongue!"

Lalaith's laugh was loudest as she stepped to her husband easily and kissed him.

"Egalmoth, rule number one in this house," Glorfindel exclaimed over the laughter and jokes, "keep what is supposed to be private private!"

"You are being extremely wise for someone who is unwed!" the other lord replied, which made all the ellith giggle. Lalaith simply rested her cheek against her husband's chest and he hugged her to him, their raven hair mingling as he kissed the top of her head. This rare display of emotion from an otherwise serious Egalmoth made them all pause and smile fondly.

Ecthelion stopped any more complaining by sitting down beside Galdor and making another drum for himself.

"Who wants to hear 'Ride of Orom�'?"

They were quickly up for bat, and this time Tuor and Egalmoth danced with their wives. An�ri� smiled shyly when she curtsied to Glorfindel.

But after the dancing started it was so easy to forget about her father and just enjoy the dance and the feel of Glorfindel's hands when he took hers to turn her or lead her in a given direction. Almost too easy. And the way he was smiling at her made her feel that he could be the One. She didn't feel this way with anyone else.

Taking hold of her skirt, she lightly side-stepped and tapped her slippered feet against the floor in union with Glorfindel, smiling brightly as he slipped an arm around her waist and they turned.

The ellith slipped away from their dancers then to form one row, their arms stretched to their sides, fingers touching, as they moved a foot back and forth before going into a series of twirls while their male companions clapped to the rhythm.

The song ended shortly after that with generous applause for the two drummers, who sat back with grins on their faces.

"Ecthelion, play us something of your own composition!" Lalaith exclaimed happily, "It has been so long since you've done that. Please!"

"And how can I deny one as lovely as yourself?" he replied, smiling as he bowed to her. Lalaith smacked one slippered foot against his calf unceremoniously. But she was at liberty to do so, for Ecthelion was her cousin once removed on her father's side.

"You are entirely out of order � Egalmoth, when was the last time you checked your wife?"

They laughed as Lalaith stuck her tongue out.

"I think you're just trying to weasel out of playing," her husband replied calmly, smiling as he took a seat beside her, "but come, my brother, play for us! Your music is always a wonder to behold."

Ecthelion sketched a bow then, and looked at his daughter.

"Yendenya, will you sing for us?"

"She writes lyrics?" Tuor asked from somewhere in the back as An�ri� blushed lightly from the attention.

"Very rarely, but it is a treat whenever she does," Ecthelion confirmed and beckoned to her, "come dear, I will play the last song I composed. Then, perhaps later we can do a duet."

"If my lord Father asks of me," she conceded and moved closer, seating herself at his feet and spreading her skirt out as he lifted a flute to his lips.

The music began as a sweet cadence of rising tones, before they melted into falling raindrops. They listened, already mesmerised, as An�ri� lifted her head to sing, in a clear, gentle voice.

"Ever close your eyes? Ever stop and listen? Ever feel alive? And you've nothing missing � you don't need a reason, let the day go on and on �"

Ecthelion quieted his flute, but it still resembled the patter of raindrops against the leaves. Lalaith leaned against Egalmoth and Tuor took Idril's hand.

An�ri� met Glorfindel's eyes.

"Let the rain fall down everywhere around you, give into it now, let the day surround you � you don't need a reason � let the rain go on and on �"

Afterwards, Glorfindel couldn't say whether he'd be able to recall the exact words of the song or not. An�ri�'s voice blended with the flute and became one with it at times, words turning into simple tones as she sang. And as if on cue, a slight, gentle rain had begun outside.

The singer fell silent and looked at her father, who drew his notes to a close with a final, quiet raindrop.

Lalaith wiped a tear from her cheek before going over and hugging An�ri�, while Idril, Tuor and Egalmoth complimented both generously. Glorfindel was silent, but his eyes spoke volumes and An�ri� smiled shyly.

"Sing more!" Lalaith begged.

"Yes, please, An�ri�," Idril joined in, "and you should sing sometimes when you come to our house as well. My son would fall asleep swiftly then."

"I am not that good of a singer," she replied timidly, "my mother was better at it than I am."

"Cealea devoted much time to it, though," the Princess stated, smiling at Ecthelion, "but your daughter is just as good."

Ecthelion inclined his head, "She is. Shall you sing one more, my sweet? About edelweiss as it is known in Valinor, or niphredil as they call it here?"

She paused, "The one Amm� enjoyed so much?"

Her father nodded, and she agreed, after a little more persuasion from the other two women.

"Oh very well; play it, Father."

The Lord of the Fountain complied and lifted the flute to his lips again. This time, Galdor sat closer with his whistle too, for he knew the song well; they all did.

"Edelweiss, edelweiss, every morning you greet me," An�ri� sang, her eyes turned towards the nearest window as she tried to convey the longing and love of the Exiles who sang about something infinitively beloved that remained behind in Valinor.

"Small and white, clean and bright, you look happy to meet me �"

Lalaith and Idril joined in now, "Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow �"

"Bloom and grow forever �" Egalmoth added in a baritone.

Ecthelion had his eyes closed; An�ri� wondered whether he was holding back tears. Galdor's eyes were unfocused. She looked at Glorfindel who was last to join in this praise,

"Edelweiss, edelweiss � bless my homeland forever �"

"Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow," An�ri� took up again, with more strength in her voice as she lead the women into the final repeat, the men following,

"Bloom and grow forever � Edelweiss, edelweiss � bless my homeland forever �"

They fell silent; Tuor gently wrapped an arm around Idril, who looked heartbreakingly sad, while Lalaith curved closer to Egalmoth. Ecthelion and Galdor lowered their instruments, and An�ri� looked at the hands folded in her lap.

Talk and soft laughter resumed later, but the hearts of the Exiles, who were the majority out of those gathered that night, remained tainted with sorrow.

"She sings beautifully," Glorfindel commented to Ecthelion as they went in search of some fruit and were just returning to the living room. Lalaith had brought forth some cards, and the ellith were all demanding something or other from the game.

"She does; she does not give herself credit enough. And yes, she is not as good as those who have commited to singing most of their life, but she is good enough," Ecthelion agreed.

They had paused and were observing how Tuor tried explaining the game to them all, failing since Idril was clearly unamused. Galdor looked close to bursting with laughter.

"Evenings like this will grow scarce soon," the Lord of the Fountain said quietly to his friend. Glorfindel looked at him; Ecthelion's grey eyes were troubled.

"Bad reports?"

"No; it is quiet. Too quiet. I fear Maeglin will lull Turgon into inatentiveness. We must be prepared. Bauglir will not have forgotten about Gondolin; the hammer will fall. The question is, when and where will it hit the hardest."

They both looked at their friends and family again; An�ri� laughed and playfully nudged Tuor aside to take the place next to Idril.

"She loves you."

Glorfindel returned his blue eyes to Ecthelion. The dark-haired Elf had a faint smile on his lips.

"She does not realise it fully yet � but she does. And she will learn it. Hopefully soon."

He looked pointedly at Glorfindel, who was trying to decide whether he should feel uncomfortable or glad. The scrunity of those grey eyes was alarming.

"She is young."

"Older than Cealea was when she claimed me for her own," Ecthelion pointed out, "do not waste too much time, my friend. Time is a luxury we should not cast aside."

Glorfindel looked at An�ri� again, wondering where this was all leading. Ecthelion was very calm about it all.

"This does not bother you?"

"The only thing bothering me is that you have yet to make your move. Personally, I would much rather have her feeling complete and whole with you than happily empty with Duinhir.

But even though you are my best friend, and the closest thing I have to a brother, Glorfindel, remember this: it will not save you should you break her heart. I will break every bone in your body and leave you like that if you do. You will find death is more merciful than me."

Yendenya - my daughter, Quenya
*Noss� Laurel�t�o - House of the Golden Flower, Quenya
*Noss� Ehtel�o - House of the Fountain, Quenya
Thank you to *Breogan (http://breogan.deviantart.com/) for correcting the translations.

**Wild Child � to Enya
***Edelweiss � to Sound of Music

*A note on the names of houses - I couldn't find any official translations, so these are a work in progress, and pretty rudamental, without the preposition 'of' anywhere in the Quenya name. My logic behind the names being in Quenya is that the House Lords were all Noldor and in exile, which means they would have spoken Quenya upon their arrival in Middle Earth, and while they would have learned Sindarin, it is quite probable that the names of places they owned would be named in Quenya.

**Enya songs just speak to me of Elven culture, somehow, with their melody and graceful lyrics. You'll probably find them again in this story.

***This one's a bit trickier, but looking at pictures of what niphrendil would have looked like, edelweiss seemed like a very likely candidate; as for the song, it was patriotic in The Sound of Music, which is why I thought it would suit the Exiles perfectly.

Chapter 9 - Chapter IX

CHAPTER NINE
Late Winter of 509, FA

When Idril had came to visit one late December afternoon with her personal seamstress, An�ri� hadn't really given it much thought. But when she overheard her father talking with the Princess about the new gown being produced for her, her curiosity piked.

It wasn't until the day she was to try on the finished dress that Ecthelion really broached the subject to her.

"Glorfindel of the Golden Flower has asked permission to court you, my dear; I have given my consent on the matter so long as you agree with it.

I want you to be happy, my little ray of sunshine. Your happiness is what matters, nothing else."

The finished product the seamstress brought out was a striking mixture of ivory samite and light velvet; it wrapped around An�ri�'s form closely, almost constricting, the heavy sleeves a change from the airy designs she usually wore. It made her stand straighter and walk slower.

It was a dress for an elleth ready to be wed.

"Atar, it is � I cannot describe it. I have never worn anything as grand as this before."

"You have never asked for it, yet I highly doubt you would have been allowed to pass had Cealea been alive; I fear I have been lapse in this department, yendenya. Lady Idril has graciously agreed to help on the matter."

She had given her father a shaky smile, and a kiss to the cheek in thank you.

On the day when she was to wear the dress in public, An�ri� found a tub prepared for her and the maids scrubbed her until her skin felt chafed raw. Her hair was washed as well, and combed until it fell down her back in soft ringlets. It was pinned and caught in a diamond-encrusted hair-net. A brooch fashioned as an eight-rayed star with a fountain in the middle completed the look.

She'd never felt more self-conscious as when Ecthelion and she arrived at the King's personal lodgings, flanking the royal palace. Her father looked splending in a robe reminiscent of those Turgon wore, but he had been wearing similar attires longer, and it was not so much of a surprise. An�ri� became even more nervous when Glorfindel stepped forward to meet them in the courtyard. He too was clad in a pure white robe, a golden circlet on his brow, his custom vambraces on his arms.

Ecthelion greeted his friend amiably and they exchanged pleasantries, before the Lord of the Fountain stepped aside, holding his daughter's hand out and, while An�ri�'s heart stuttered erratically, Glorfindel took it with a bow.

Her father went ahead while she looked up into Glorfindel's face to find her peace of mind. The Lord of the Golden Flower was smiling softly, and his eyes were very gentle.

"You spoke with my father."

"I have; we agreed this has been a long time coming. Are you angry because I did not speak with you first?"

She thought for a moment, then finally shook her head, "No, not really. I guess I have been waiting for it to happen."

His smile broadened, and she returned the gesture timidly, before they finally turned and entered Turgon's house together. An�ri� was aware that many eyes fell upon them, on the way Glorfindel tucked her hand in the crook of his arm almost possessively � not that she really minded. When she turned her green eyes to look at him, the sapphire blue of his was happy.

They were all gathered tonight, to celebrate the turn of a new year, all high-born members of the Houses, while the rest who could not fit in these halls were celebrating in their homes.

Lalaith caught her eye; Egalmoth's wife looked smugly pleased when she saw who was leading An�ri� to their group, and she winked at her, making her blush. Egalmoth, noticing his wife's distraction, followed her gaze and his lips broke into a calm smile.

"I see congratulations will soon be in order," he said once they drew near, "we have all been wondering when this will come about � and where Ecthelion has hidden his daughter tonight."

They laughed, and An�ri� turned her flushed face into Glorfindel's shoulder self-consciously.

"Has anyone seen Turgon yet?" E�lasaid, Penlod's wife asked, sensing her despair. An�ri� threw a thankful glance her way, while Glorfindel chuckled low in his throat.

"I believe they have just arrived to greet us," Galdor replied as his chocolate-haired wife Caleniel turned her head in the direction of the main inner entrance.

Turgon appeared, Maeglin by his side while Tuor and Idril followed right behind them.

The gathered fell into greeting, men bowing and women curtsying deeply to the royal family, as Turgon lifted his arms to raise them all.

"Friends! Kin! Tonight, we celebrate the coming of a new Dawn, a new year that will hopefully bring with it a bountiful harvest, spring rains and summer sun.

Tonight, we lament for those that were and are no longer with us, and rejoice for those that we may still look upon.

Let us therefore sing to our Lady, Star-kindler, to gaze mercifully upon us despite what grievances we have caused her in the past."

And he spread his arms as if to embrace them all, looking up into the artfully-decorated ceiling that deciped the midnight stars, he lead the way into song, his daughter Idril following in his wake.

They all sang then, their voices mingling in cadence as they asked for Varda to grant their prayers and forgive their wrongs, that they might someday be permitted to return into the West.

Once the song and thus formal beginning of the night's ceremony finished, wine and mead were brought out in plenty, and the King mingled with his people. For the Elves rejoyced, above all, in gatherings such as these in Elder Days. Tumladen lay at peace, the scouts had reported nothing for a long time now, and they knew no fear or shadow.

Ecthelion did not linger by his daughter's side; he went to speak with Tuor and they could be seen standing beside one of the high pillars, deep in conversation. But An�ri� did not have time to miss him, for all of a sudden she felt Glorfindel's arm tense under her touch, the muscles cording.

She turned her face up to look at him and saw he was glaring at something. Following his gaze, she was surprised to find Maeglin making his way to them.

He bowed once he reached them; An�ri� curtsied, but Glorfindel's head inclination was the only sign of acknowledgement.

"There will be some dancing afterwards � I come to ask for the favour of your lady."

An�ri� was puzzled; to her, it was common knowledge that Maeglin held bitter resentment towards Tuor for marrying his cousin Idril, someone he himself loved. The Princess had told her as much. Why was he suddenly expressing a desire to dance with her?

"You are late in transferring your attentions, Mole," Glorfindel replied. An�ri� had never heard such coldness in his voice, "the lady is spoken for."

Maeglin's smile was close to a sneer for a moment, but he checked himself well enough, "Ah, pardon, my Lord Flower. I did not mean ill to you or yours. I only asked for the pleasure of your lady's company for one dance."

"Then might I suggest you ask her yourself," the golden-haired Elf-lord replied icily, "she needs no one's permission to make her own decisions."

An�ri� instinctively shrank into Glorfindel's side when Maeglin's black eyes landed on her. There was too much of his father in him; very little of the lady Aredhel, his mother. And yet, to decline would not be courteous.

So she nodded stiffly, "I shall dance the second dance with you, my lord."

Maeglin bowed again and took his leave. Glorfindel was already turned in such a way to shield her from his very presence; An�ri� looked up into his face again, seeing the tense set of his jaw.

"I would much rather you did not dance with him, not tonight, not ever."

His voice was low, but no longer cold. An�ri� shifted closer to him on instinct, placing a hand over the sun emblem on his heart. He covered it with his palm.

"He will not harm me; he would not dare. My father would tear him to pieces; and Maeglin is a much lesser warrior than you."

She had great confidence in him, he realised. A smile ghosted across his lips.

"Perhaps that is so; and you have given your word. It cannot be undone. But that is the only dance you will grant him. I like him not, and he does not find me amiable, it is no secret. He will do what he can to force my hand."

An�ri� nodded in agreement � she had no desire to be in Maeglin's company longer than propriety demanded. When Glorfindel shifted again she saw Idril looking in their direction, and once their eyes met she beckoned with her hand.

"Pray excuse me � I must speak with the Princess."

Glorfindel released her, "I will be waiting."

The shift in the way he treated her would take some getting used to; An�ri� felt her cheeks colour again as she smiled and walked away, moving towards Idril.

The Princess took her hand when she was close enough, placing it to her elbow.

"Walk with me for a moment, my dear � my husband is busy entertaining your father it would seem, and mine own sire is speaking with Lord Rog."

They took to walking on the outer perimeter of the hall. This close to Idril, An�ri� could see the princess was wearing hair jewels, glimmering in the light and against her golden hair.

"I saw my cousin speaking with you and Glorfindel. The latter did not look amused."

She looked into Idril's eyes; they were grave.

"An�ri�, it is not upon me to tell you who to keep company, but as a friend I advise you to steer away from Maeglin. A shadow lies over his heart; I have perceived it the moment he laid eyes on me when my aunt, his lady mother, brought him to Gondolin. There is something there that does not sleep. You would do well to ignore him."

"I have promised to dance with him," An�ri� confessed, "just one dance. I could not refuse someone of the royal family."

Idril nodded, "Verily, you could not. But do not allow him to put you into compromising situations that will question your manners or your integrity. Stay close to Glorfindel, your father, or even myself and my husband. Maeglin rarely does something without purpose."

An�ri� wished, by now, that she could find a way out of the agreement, but just as she was about to speak a dark shadow moved in the corner of her eye. Beside her, Idril drew herself to her full height, and turned the younger elleth so that she was partly behind her.

Maeglin smiled at them both sweetly.

"Cousin, my lady."

"Cousin," Idril greeted him politely, but with the same polite distance she might use to speak with a foreign visitor. It did not go unnoticed, but Maeglin did not linger; he simply bowed and left again.

An�ri� was released from Idril's side as the princess went in search of Tuor, while she returned to Glorfindel, who was speaking with Egaith and Duinhir. He smiled when he saw her draw near, and extended a hand, while the other two politely made room for her.

Duinhir, thankfully, harboured no hard feelings towards either her or Glorfindel, and so talk resumed quickly enough, to the satisfaction of all. Elves moved among the gathered with trays, and the guests delighted in the treats Turgon's cooks had prepared for the night.

Glorfindel danced with An�ri� in the opening dance, but as she had promised, the second dance belonged to Maeglin. Ecthelion, as she noticed when she curtsied, had moved closer to Glorfindel, and directly to her right, Tuor and Idril were dancing, their faces unreadable.

"Your protectors close the net around me," Maeglin commented as she passed him. An�ri� disliked the sound of his voice: it was too sweet. Sickly so.

"I do not need protectors," she replied with a bland smile, "although I am flattered to hear you think so."

They were silent for a few turns.

"I have never seen you in Glorfindel's company on such occassions � is this a permanent change?"

An�ri� met his eyes evenly, her own hardening: "It does not concern you, but for what it's worth, I will one day become the Lady of the Golden Flower."

This news seemed to shock him; thankfully the dance ended soon after, and she could excuse herself. Glorfindel was waiting for her on the edge of the dance floor, and once her hand was in his, An�ri� sighed and relaxed, smiling at him.

"I did not know you thought it prudent to dance with Maeglin," Ecthelion commented. His daughter shrugged lightly.

"There was no harm done. He sensed that four, at least, were against him. He told me as much."

Her father nodded, then turned when Idril and Tuor joined them, and Glorfindel used the space of a heartbeat when the princess asked Ecthelion a question to slip aside, leading An�ri� away.

"Where are you taking me?" she laughed softly as they passed through a side door, "the celebrations are far from over!"

"They are not, but I am in need of fresh air," he replied, smiling as they stepped into the crisp night. An�ri� breathed deeply, allowing Glorfindel to tug her after him, and hand in hand they walked slowly towards the large fountain in the King's square.

They stopped under Glingal and Belthil, the two trees of gold and silver Turgon had made in memory of the Two Trees of Valinor. Glorfindel turned to her.

"I saw you exchanged words with Maeglin," he said, and An�ri� nodded.

"We did not speak much, other than about those who he noticed as my 'protectors'."

Glorfindel's lips quivered, "He thinks you need protection from him?"

An�ri� was slightly annoyed at that, "I told him I do not; and indeed, I do not think he can do me any harm. In any case, I will erase that smile off his face somehow."

The Elf-lord beside her chuckled softly and shook his head.

"I seem to be tempting fate with this � do you intend to threaten me as well?"

She smiled up at him, "No, not really. And I did not threaten Maeglin � I merely stated fact."

He arched an eyebrow, "Oh?"

An�ri� could feel her cheeks grow hot again and she shifted, looking down.

"He was wondering about us � about why we are suddenly so close. I told him I am to be your wife."

For a heartbeat, the only noise around them was the tinkling fall of water, muting the sound of merriment from inside. Then Glorfindel's hand was under her chin and he lifted her face to meet her eyes again.

"A bold statement, my lady � I did not ask it of you yet."

An�ri�'s heart skipped a beat. She was sure he could hear it.

"Were you going to?"

Glorfindel's expression turned infinitely tender, "Yes."

Her throat went dry, but she forced her quivering lips into a smile as she stepped closer to him, "Then you have your answer."

She placed her hands on his chest even as one of his settled on her lower back, and the other cupped her face. He filled her vision again, her world, as he leaned close, and she could smell honey and something else on his breath, mixed with wine. His lips were soft against her own when they touched, and An�ri�'s eyes closed as she gave in to her other senses; the feel of his heartbeat under her palms, the warmth of his hand through the layers of her clothes.

The kiss was sweet; when she pulled away he did not object, but drew her against his front as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. She felt his lips touch her hair.

Neither of them knew how long they stayed like that, but after a while Glorfindel moved and took her hand again, leading her back to the feast. For the remaining part of the night she did not leave his side, and he did not let her out of his sight. And when the time came to part, he kissed her again.

An�ri� could not honestly say how she made it home and to her own bed. When she fell asleep, she dreamed of a fair house with many turrets, and a laughing Elf-lord with hair like ripe gold and eyes as clear sapphires.

Yendenya - my daughter, Quenya
Atar - dad, Quenya

Chapter 10 - Chapter X

CHAPTER TEN
Early Spring of 510, FA

It was a mild day, a warm day; the snow had finally melted entirely and new life was beginning to emerge from all around. Tumladen burst into green and red and yellow and all colours inbetween. The walls of Gondolin were covered with flowers again. The birds had returned, and their romances were beginning.

Romances seemed to be springing out all over Gondolin, and if not romances then the consequences of those; the cries of children, so seldom heard in other Elven kingdoms, multiplied, filling the heart of the King with joy. Everything seemed to be given a fresh start.

That day, Ecthelion was riding out, far out onto Tumladen again; An�ri� stood beside his horse with him as Lasgow prepared the final details.

"Atar, do not go," she begged him softly, one last time, knowing it was to no avail. Once her father's mind was made up, there was no changing its course.

He smiled reassuringly and gently cupped her cheek.

"I will not be too long, yendenya. I will be back for dinner, I promise."

She lowered her head, and he touched his lips to her golden curls, before turning to mount his horse. The stallion snorted, pawning the cobblestones and shaking its head before his master reigned him in and, with a lifted hand, slowly rode out from under the archway and onto the rode of Fountains.

An�ri� waited on the steps until the last rider disappeared, and then she grabbed her skirt and dashed into the house, pushing Elwen aside in her haste. Her slippers left a soft sound as she climbed the stairs and pulled open the doors of the wide terrace overlooking the street, her hands touching the rail as her body came to a stop. A faint breeze blew, picking up her father's standard and unfurling it. Her heart was beating rapidly away, her breathing fast as she watched the column of riders make their way in the direction of the Great Gate.

The first rider turned, and lifted a hand again. She clasped her own over her heart, silently praying, as she did every time he left her like this. She did not sense Elwen's approach, and the handmaiden stayed at the entrance, her heart going out to her young charge.

An�ri� stayed on the balcony until she could not see the standards anymore, and then, subdued, she slowly returned inside.

Ever since her mother's demise upon the very fields that her father was riding out to, she lived in perpetual fear that he would fall as well. No assurance Ecthelion made could placate her, though she was graceful enough when she saw him off. And she was always standing over the ramparts, watching, waiting, praying. Only when the flutes sang again did a smile grace her features. Like Cealea before her, An�ri� now waited for the return of the man who commanded the City's elite warriors.

"My lady?" Elwen's soft voice woke her from her thoughts, and she realized she had been standing in the hallway.

"It is nothing," she sighed, shaking her head and descending the steps again, aimlessly moving towards her mother's garden again, seeking solace. Elwen wished there was something she could do to comfort her. But it was not her comfort she needed.

The day dragged on slowly, too slow for An�ri� then. With her father gone, she had no energy for anything. She did not even want to go and shoot with the bow or practice with the sword. There was no chance of him catching her doing it, but she was too worried to focus properly.

It was only when Arien rose to the highest position on the sky that the elleth stirred again, and only because of a disturbance from the outside.

Glorfindel had waited until just before the noon meal to make his appearance at his friend's house; he knew Ecthelion had ridden out. He had spoken to his brother-in-arms before the group left the city. Because he had taken Gwainar for a ride before-hand, he had the tactful advantage of having to wait for his horse to cool down a bit before leaving for his own lodgings. That, at least, was his excuse, which he told An�ri� as soon as Elwen brought her from the gardens.

"Gwainar must cool down?" she asked, her expression unreadable. Glorfindel smiled, inclining his head, his eyes meeting hers. He could sense and see worry etched into her face, worry for her father and the men who rode with him. His heart went out to her.

Preoccupied, he did not at once realize she was smiling at him.

"If you wish to come and visit, all you have to do is come," she said in a gentle voice. There was amusement dancing in those green eyes. It took him a moment, but then he laughed quietly.

She had seen right through him.

"Would you like to join me for the midday meal, my lord?" Ecthelion's daughter asked, and the unspoken invitation was more than noticable. He could feel it.

"If my lady commands," he answered, bowing, and handing Gwainar's reins to one of the stable Elves.

An�ri� chose to ignore the smug look that Elf was wearing, and stepped aside to allow Glorfindel free passage. He surprised her by offering his arm; she hesitated only for a moment before taking it, lightly placing her fingers against the fabric of his tunic.

"I have missed you," he said quietly as he pulled her chair out for her. Her eyes told him what she dared not say out loud, since their food was just being brought out. He was satisfied even with that.

It was a simple meal, as extravagance was not something she favoured; this he had learned a while back already. But more than the food presented to him Glorfindel watched the elleth sitting in her father's high chair, keeping light conversation with him.

"I heard you were working on your gardens," she commented lightly while pouring him a glass of apple juice, "Atar told me, a day or so past."

"Only to add a fountain in," he replied with a smile, thanking her for the drink, "your father was kind enough to draw me one according to my liking."

Was it just him or was there a hint of a blush on her cheeks now?

An�ri� tried not to think about whether it was for her sake that he was installing a fountain in his otherwise beautiful gardens. She had walked there a couple of times before and she knew there was essentially nothing missing. There had to be a reason why he was doing what he was doing.

She took up the conversation again: "Father always did have an eye for drawing those. It's a pity he doesn't draw more. He used to, when I was little."

His eyes never left her face, she realized, and it made her feel self-conscious, but she tried not to show it, at least not too much.

"He drew quite a lot during our life in Aman," Glorfindel commented, "he is very good. I have some of his sketches still."

This sparked her interest: "They cover your life in the Blessed Realm?"

"They are from the era, yes," he confessed, "I can bring them to you sometime, if you wish to see them."

"I would love that," she admitted with a smile, "I have only those that he made when in Gondolin. Some seem to be memories of different places, different times. But each time I ask, he puts them away. I don't think he likes talking about it."

Glorfindel sighed. So typically Ecthelion.

"Your father misses Aman more than some others, An�ri�; it is a difficult topic for all of us, but for him especially."

She gave him a small, sad smile: "I know, Glorfindel. I know."

It was one of the few times that she had actually used his given name to speak to him, and he felt an odd thrill at that. Their eyes met and held; his obervation brought her to a shy silence.

He did not pressure her to speak again, and she did not attempt to. There was no need; he offered her silent comfort, and she took it gratefully, mentally leaning on him for support and strength while her father was gone.

After the meal they slowly walked into the garden.

"I used to spend almost every waking hour here, as a girl," she told him after they shed their shoes and tread barefoot over the new grass, "my mother would sit on the grass or on the edge of the great fountain and sing or read, and I would pick flowers and braid them in her hair."

The vision was peaceful and full of harmony; Glorfindel smiled: "You miss her very much, don't you?"

An�ri� smiled sadly, looking down, "Every day. Every moment when I'm alone. I wish she were here to guide me in what I do � I never knew how much I relied on her until she was gone."

Silently, he took her hand, lacing their fingers together. She gave him a small smile of thank you before looking ahead again.

"The trees are almost fully in bloom," she said quietly, making him look around too, "soon, the garden will be full of life again. The circle begins anew."

"It is the way of Yavanna," he agreed gently, giving her hand a squeeze, "as is all that lives and grows."

She did not say anything to that, but leaned low to catch a petal from the fountain they stopped by, holding it in her hand for a moment, before letting it fall again. The leaves of cherry blossoms had caught in her hair as they walked; he saw it as he watched their reflection in the water.

Beauty, his mother told him, lay in the eye of the beholder. He had found that which was most beautiful to him.

"What is your favourite tree?" he asked after they started walking again. He wanted to know everything about her, her secrets, her fears, her hopes. Everything.

She didn't take long to reply: "Apple, and cherry as well. Their fragrance filled my craddle when I was born, my father brought the boughs into my room, variating each night. They are both dear to me."

He already had those in his gardens, although he would probably relocate them slightly.

"And flower?"

An�ri� looked at him, wondering at his interest, before chuckling and reaching up to smoothe the petals from his hair.

"White roses," she answered, "they were my mother's favourite. And they are pure."

Those, he would have to plant, but it would not take them long to bloom. Letting her lead him, Glorfindel enjoyed the quiet serenity behind Ecthelion's manse, where noise from the street barely reached it and the walls were too high to look over. It was a little piece of Aman.

An�ri� took him to the oldest apple tree in the garden, and lowered herself onto the petal-covered grass. He sat down beside her, leaning his back against the trunk, looking up into the branches, listening to the bees buzzing happily.

The elleth listened too, watching him from under half-closed eyelids as he seemed to drift off into peaceful reverie.

She hadn't know how calming his presence was to her. Well, she had guessed, during Tarnin Austa last year, but never to this extent. She had almost forgotten that her father was riding out across Tumladen. She could pretend that he was just inside the house, while she was talking with Glorfindel.

It took her a moment to realize that he was watching her as well.

A blush rose on her cheeks and she hastily lowered her eyes to her hands, playing with the material of her dress.

His hand was gentle when she felt his fingers under her chin, and she allowed him to lift her face to his. He had shifted closer, searching her eyes as he leaned in. An�ri� felt her lips turn upwards slightly in response, just before his brushed across them.

It was the faintest of touches, soft as a butterfly's wing. And yet her pulse raced and colour was on her cheeks when he pulled away to look at her again. Something cool touched her hands. She looked down, knowing what it was, but needing to see all the same.

The two silver rings seemed unnatural against her skin.

"I spoke to your father, before he rode out today," he confessed, still speaking with a soft voice. Neither one of them wished to disturb the peace of nature that currently surrounded them.

"I told him my intentions. He gave his consent and his blessing, so long as you agreed."

She smiled at that; always, her father gave her free choice in these matters. From the very beginning. It was always whether she wanted it or not.

Her eyes met Glorfindel's again.

"I had thought you would ask sooner."

That brought a soft laugh to his lips.

"I would have, but unfortunately I lost a bet with some of my brothers. Lord Rog was rather disinclined to speed the process of forging these two links because of that."

An�ri� felt her brows rise at that, although she could not help but laugh herself, very quietly.

"What did you lose?"

Glorfindel pulled a face: "It was hardly something significant, but only later did I realize how cleverly they had played me. Rog owed me a favour, but if I lost the bet, then he could postpone it for as long as he wished."

The elleth chuckled.

"Is he against our match, or simpy likes teasing you?"

"Suffice to say that lord Rog finds it highly amusing when he can vex me," came the reply in a voice that cause a small giggle to escape her, albeit she had been trying hard to keep her cool.

Glorfindel was eyeing her like a large cat.

An�ri� had only that for a warning before he suddenly grabbed her, pinning her lightly against the grass, ignoring her shriek and then her feeble attempts to free herself.

"Glorfindel! This is not funny � if I ruin the dress Atar will know �"

"Seeing as he knows I have the silver rings, I doubt a ruined dress will be his top priority," he said smugly. Almost too smug.

She pouted at him.

"Is this the way you treat the woman you would wish to bind to you? Perhaps I should reconsider and choose Duinhir after all. At least HE has some manners!"

Glorfindel rolled his eyes and let her go, sitting up again and taking the rings from where they had slipped from her lap.

"Petulant child."

She glared at him: "I will have you thrown from my father's property."

"Yes, and how will that look I wonder, given we are wearing identical rings?" he mocked her gently. An�ri�'s frustrations were so easy to tease.

She swung with her hand, but he caught her, pulling her to him, hearing her breath catch.

"Will you allow me to place this ring on your finger, or must I restrain you, woman?"

Her eyes flashed, but then she was suddenly meek again. The rings felt odd against their skin, too cool, but looking down on their left hands and seeing them there, both of them felt like this was something they could not fight.

His hand cupped her cheek, and he kissed her again; this time, An�ri� allowed her forehead to rest against his for a time.

"In a year's time, we will wed," he said quietly. She shifted closer to him, turning her face to meet his eyes. Through his hold, his steady strength was obvious.

"Am I still a child to you?" she asked suddenly, not even knowing why she asked that. The underlying question was something else though. Something Glorfindel detected, but did not have time to elaborate upon as Elwen's call reached them from the house. The King required Glorfindel's assistance.

They parted with the question still hanging between them, but he could not answer her, other than gently touch her cheek as she saw him off. He needed time to think.

How could he answer her whether he wanted her or not?

Atar - dad, Quenya

Chapter 11 - Chapter XI

CHAPTER ELEVEN
Early Spring of 510, FA

"No, Ann�, you must set your pieces differently; here, let me show you."

An�ri� fought very, very hard to keep her face smooth as E�rendil stood from his place across the low table, shifting to come to her side and adjust the pieces as he saw fit. She lifted her eyes to see Idril's sparkling with concealed laughter where she sat on a cushioned sofa near-by.

Ecthelion's daughter had agreed to come spend time with Idril and her son while Tuor conversed with the lords of the Golden Flower and the Fountain in Ecthelion's council chamber. It was not a great deal for her, considering how she enjoyed the boy's company, but she was quite amused by his eternal wish to prove he was already adept at tactics and spreading troops.

"See, you must place your open lands behind the castle line, so your garrisons may protect the people behind."

"Ah, but Gondolin's fields are all beyond the walls," she pointed out, rearranging her cards again swiftly, "one must always humble before his origins, my Prince. I am Gondolindrim, and am making a second Gondolin here."

E�rendil pursed his lips together as he studied the way she'd set it all now, and centered her troops behind the open lands.

"But would not Altatar have wished Gondolin to be as I have placed my cards?"

An�ri� looked to the other end of the small table, acutely aware of Idril watching her every move, and the way E�rendil leaned against her shoulder as they inspected the way his troops were spread in front of his lifestock and homes.

"He would perhaps, if chance allowed," she admitted, thinking upon it for a moment, "and indeed, both strategies have their ups and their downs. Your troops have less room to fight, while mine can cover the fields between easily. However, should you cut my escape, you will have victory."

Young E�rendil pondered on that for a moment.

"The game shall certainly be more entertaining this way," he finally declared, and left to sit back down, focusing his eyes on the board again. Suddenly he looked up and beamed at his mother, "Amm�, will you watch?"

Idril lowered the shirt she'd been embroidering and gave her son a gentle smile.

"If it pleases you, although your Lord Father shall be rather cross if his shirt is not finished today."

"Atar can fix his own shirt if he so wishes," the boy exclaimed, pouting. Idril and An�ri� both laughed softly, and the Princess moved, seating herself on a cushion to observe the game up close.

"Let us not test your Father's limits; rather, let us see yours, my son. Show me what you have learned so far."

An�ri� smoothed a hand over the skirt of her cream gown, freeing another from the sleeve as she performed a last-moment rearrangement, before giving leave for the first move to E�rendil.

They were playing a game Idril herself had played, as well as other Eldar in Valinor, and it was something they had brought with them to Middle Earth, though in the Blessed realm there had been no need for troops. That was a change the Exiles had added after their first battles in the new land, for previously it was only prosperity they sought to teach their offspring.

In general, the game was fairly straight-forward: a large map was spread, and cards for land, castles, towers, people and various other aspects were distributed among players. Each started with the very basis for their kindgom, and of course a basic garrison to protect it, but they could expand over the game as they would in life, by conquering, negotiating, buying or stealing.

It was an interesting game, but also educational as it was through it that children first learned war-fare and tactics.

An�ri� pulled her legs further underneath her as E�rendil made the obvious move of pushing scouts forward; with his lands behind his walls, he would need to spread his men out to gain more. To go easy on the boy, she made no response with warriors, but instead bought woods close-by.

"I was going for those!" the boy commented, pouting.

She heard Idril giggle softly; An�ri� smiled: "I can see that, my Prince. But no one will wait for you. The forests are close to my own fields, and I am in need of wood."

E�rendil tapped his nose, obviously torn with a difficult decision. An�ri� had a feeling she knew what it was.

"Little warrior, I am not your friend in this game," she said softly, "but, unless you parlay with me, your enemy. Therefore, your wisest choice would be to send a troup to claim the forest. It is not personal; just a game."

Reassured, E�rendil decided, and soon enough small figurines of horsemen were put in place. The game began for real.

The little boy was quite good, really; adept for tactics, and he learned fast. It took only small nudges from either Idril or An�ri� to put him back on the right track, which was to conquer.

They were so engrossed with the game, which had progressed quite well through the two hours they remained seated there, that they did not hear or see anything beyond their world on the map.

They did not sense the presence of anyone else in the living area, but Tuor and Glorfindel had paused at the entrance, watching the scene before them with smiles on their faces. The Lord of the Wing leaned against the door frame, while the Lord of the Golden Flower crossed arms over his chest.

"I don't think they'll notice us unless we interrupt," Tuor commented cheerfully.

Glorfindel chuckled, "I think you're right � but for now, I am content to watch. It is a peaceful thing to behold. I am in need of it, after our conversation."

The mortal agreed; Ecthelion had not been in the best of moods when they had sat down in his reading room.

"I have sent my own warriors out among Duilin's scouts; I do not trust them. No, do not mistake me � I would trust Duilin with my life, and the life of my king. I do not, however, believe that all his men share his sense of loyalty. I have seen them bonding tight with the House of the Mole.

It will soon be treason to speak as I do now, but we all know Maeglin likes me not, no more than I like him. And the worst part of this all is that he would bring harm to his own kin to get his heart's desire."

Watching Idril shift closer to their son now, to help him in his moves against An�ri� in the board game, Tuor could feel his jaw tighten, and his palms curl into fists. He had told Ecthelion what he thought about his theories:

"Maeglin will never touch Idril, not while I draw breath, neither will he harm our son. And if that is indeed his plan, then he shall be thwarted; I have staked my claim on the Princess, and if it is not yet obvious I have no intention of giving her up."

Tuor knew he would never forget the flash of Ecthelion's grey eyes as he said that; the Lord of the Fountain was not worried about Maeglin's intentions with Idril only, that much was clear. And Glorfindel knew that as well as the other.

"I do not like Maeglin's sudden attention towards my own daughter either, while we are discussing this: he has never taken note of her before, and yet on the very evening when you, Glorfindel, escort her publicly into the hall, he decides to dance with her. Idril does not think it innocent, while others might; I will never be caught saying against her judgement in the matters.

I have not enforced my will in this, as I believe An�ri� can hold her own, and she has many on her side. But I will not tolerate it as calmly as you do with Idril, Tuor. My word will be final on the matter: I will not allow Maeglin close to my daughter."

Just then, An�ri� burst out laughing, breaking through the stupor Glorfindel and Tuor had fallen into, reminising of their conversation with Ecthelion.

The elleth was shaking, her face hidden in her hands, while Idril had hidden her face in E�rendil's hair to refrain from the same loud exclamation as her friend had done. E�rendil had coloured, but was also laughing with them, obviously contrite over whatever he had done.

"Oh my Prince, I'm sorry," An�ri�'s voice floated to them finally, and they watched her shake her head as she peeked at the boy through her fingers, "but it was just too funny � please, repeat your moves and see for yourself what makes this so amusing!"

But the boy couldn't see what he had done wrong, so Idril and An�ri� leaned forward to explain. The silver band on An�ri�'s right index finger tugged Glorfindel's lips up into a smile.

While her bold statement to Maeglin during the winter festivities had surprised him, it had also given him great pleasure. He did not know her long, true, but it felt like he did. He would oft find himself wondering what it would be like to wake up next to her, to have her run his house and not her father's.

Most of all, he wished to give her the desires of her heart.

It was obvious to most anyone that An�ri� loved Glorfindel, and he her, but it was not so obvious that the Elf-lord was planning on teaching her more than the art of love. He was going to give her the greatest wish she had: teach her how to be a warrior. He knew that she still yearned for this, despite hiding it bravely, and he would never wish for anyone he cared for deeply to find grief in their days. It was not sadness as of yet, but if An�ri� did not give in to her wishes, she would grow to resent those who had opposed her. That was something he could not let happen.

As the elleth shifted her golden hair back so she could see the map clearly, Glorfindel held his breath; their wedding would not come soon enough.

Ecthelion's daughter had no idea just how distracting she could be, or what a picture she presented when she walked into the room. Lately, it had gone beyond that, too. It was not just her walk: it was the way she spoke, the Vanyar accent to her words that brought so much home with it to him, the way she turned her head, fixed her hair, or absent-mindedly fiddled with her sleeves. He noticed so much, and so much more.

He had been absurdly pleased when she'd accepted the silver ring he'd given her, though he had known she would. It just added the touch to see her wear it openly.

Tuor had been patient enough, but he'd wriggled the betrothal story out of his friend with a very human trait: stubborness. While it was shared by his Eldar brethren, it was seldom shown in public. The man, however, had made it clear he would not stop until he found the truth.

Watching his betrothed fix some cards for the little Prince, Glorfindel smiled.

So innocent. Even now, watching her play with little E�rendil, he saw it in the way she moved her hands, or shifted on the floor. So pure, and yearning to see so much.

She had been enticingly beautiful when he'd murmured his vows for her, slipping the silver ring onto her finger, and Glorfindel knew he would not hear any sweeter words than her own vow in return until their wedding day.

"Atar!"

E�rendil call woke him from his thoughts, as the little boy had finally spied his father.

Tuor smiled and pushed away from the door to step into the room, catching his son fluidly as he came running. They both laughed, and E�rendil wrapped his arms around his father in innocent happiness, his face pressing into the man's shoulder, while Idril rose gracefully and crossed the room to lightly kiss her husband's lips.

"You are quick, my love � the Lord of the Fountain has been merciful I see."

Glorfindel laughed, and spoke before Tuor could: "Oh if only he could hear you now! Nay, lady Idril, I do not think he was merciful. He was, however, kind enough to let us leave when we grew weary. Whether he wished it or not is a different matter."

She rolled her eyes and made a swatting motion with her hand, but he side-stepped deftly; An�ri� came to his side willingly, lacing her fingers through his and smiling up at him. Shyly, granted, but with a new aura of confidence surrounding her. She was becoming better at displaying affection as she grew used to the fact she was to be wed soon.

"Is Father in a bad mood? He has not played his flute in some time now �"

Ecthelion always played � except when his mind was elsewhere. Under her words, Glorfindel detected worry. He wondered if his friend knew just how shrewd his daughter was in observation.

His smile softened, "Not too much, I should think. He said he was going to rest by the fountains in his garden to wait for you. I do believe our presence wearied him."

An�ri� chuckled and kissed his cheek swiftly � too fast for him to turn his head on time and kiss her properly. She could see the lightest signs of playful annoyance in his blue eyes, but she looked away.

"If our presence was so taxing to him he should not have called," Tuor commented, coming to An�ri�'s aid, as he placed E�rendil on the floor again, "but enough about that. I see you are playing. Are you finished?"

"Not quite," An�ri� replied, looking to the map again, "but I will soon be without sufficient provision to uphold my forces. I am debating whether or not to simply yield. Your son is a mastermind, my lord."

Idril cleared her throat lightly, but Tuor knew what she said with that; An�ri� had graciously given another win to the boy. It was fine for now, while he was too young to understand the meaning of loss, but Tuor knew he would have to speak with Ecthelion's daughter as E�rendil got older. It would do him well if he lost on an imaginative battlefield before suffering the same fate on a real one.

"Perhaps you could be persuaded to another game next?" he asked, as they all moved to sit around the low table, so An�ri� and E�rendil could finish, "I have not played in a long time. You could, of course, have Glorfindel to help you."

An�ri� hesitated, knowing Tuor to be one of the greatest warriors in Gondolin at this time. She stood no chance against him.

Idril's smile caught her attention.

"I think not, my love. I shall pair with An�ri� � and you can keep lord Glorfindel."

The two men exchanged looks, then Glorfindel shrugged and switched places with Idril, who winked at An�ri�.

E�rendil was keen on seeing that game so An�ri� yielded and the board was cleared again, for the adults to play this time. The boy would simply watch and learn; when his father said so, E�rendil always obeyed, without the cheekiness he often showed his mother.

"My lady, what is your plan?" An�ri� murmured in Idril's ear as she dealt the cards, her eyes watching the two lords conversing softly.

"They will wish to be gracious and let us win," the Princess responded in the same tone of voice, "but after a few moves they will realise they must play with all their skill. We are both our fathers' daughters, An�ri�: let us show them such."

The two golden-haired ellith smiled at each other, and that smile gave both Glorfindel and Tuor good cause for alarm, though they were mostly amused by it all.

They played long into the afternoon, with the two women proving to be more than an even match for their men. Idril's way of placing land and putting the people to work was astounding, while An�ri� kept tight control over her battle tactics. Glorfindel was hard-pressed to match her vicious assault of heavy lancers.

The afternoon shadows were lengthening, and still they played, when Ecthelion came to seek his daughter out. His mood was instantly uplifted when he saw her deftly out-maneouver Tuor and slip behind his archers to catch him between two of her regiments.

"That was a young boy's mistake, my lord."

Tuor gave a chagrined smile, though his focus was on the game fully now; E�rendil ran to Ecthelion and settled by him to watch as the ladies suddenly lost some land to Glorfindel's troops. Ecthelion had a feeling it was only because they wished to, and after a few more moves, he could already see the shades of his daughter's plan, while it was obvious the two lords could not. He remained wisely silent, watching as both Glorfindel and Tuor failed to see a crucial garrison that had somehow went unchallenged as they moved in.

"I believe, my lords," Idril suddenly said in a clear voice, "that you have gotten yourselves killed."

Ecthelion could see the smugness on her face as An�ri� opened the cards for the final garrison, effectively trapping Tuor's troops without giving him so much as an inch of open ground. Glorfindel fared no better.

"Perhaps it is best no one else is here to see this," Ecthelion commented as both lords conceded defeat.

"Most definitely," Glorfindel agreed, and his eyes found An�ri�'s. She was barely holding back laughter.

"One thing is certain: I am very lucky to be marrying your daughter, Ecthelion. At least that way I know she won't be the one I face on a battlefield!"

As his daughter laughed, Ecthelion couldn't help but follow.

Atar - father, Quenya
Amm� - mother, Quenya
Altatar - grandfather, Quenya

Chapter 12 - Chapter XII

CHAPTER TWELVE
Late Spring of 510, FA

"Lovers in the long grass, look above them, only they can see where the clouds are going, only to discover dust and sunlight ever make the sky so blue �"

An�ri� sang in a clear voice as she walked Gwaiforn by the edge of the Great Lake upon Tumladen. Behind her, Gondolin's banners fluttered high in the morning breeze, and the Tower of the King glimmered like a beacon in the early Sun.

In the distance, a group of riders hastened across the plains, flying no colours, but An�ri� knew her father's men when she saw them ride. Lasgow was their leader, probably, as this was the only company Ecthelion had sent out, and it was late returning. She hoped they did not bring ill news.

"Afternoon is hazy, river flowing, all around the sounds moving closer to them, telling them the story told by flora, dreams they never knew �"

Of late, Ecthelion had been worse for wear. He seldom smiled anymore, and never played his flute again, not even if little E�rendil asked it of him. His mind was elsewhere and he ate little. An�ri� worried for her father, knowing that the Warden of the Great Gate would transfer his mood to all the others, or at least to Glorfindel and Tuor.

But today was beautiful, one of the last days of Spring as Summer neared once more. An�ri� could not stay in the house, and Ecthelion had taken the time to notice her pacing her room in search of various items.

"Going out?"

His voice had made her smile, as it always did. He had graciously offered to go with her, but she had declined. He was needed elsewhere today.

Ecthelion's contrite face was before her as she slowed her walk to cross one of the small streams that fed the lake.

"Forgive me, my sweet. I do not spend as much time with you as I should. I promise I will remedy that before your wedding day."

That was fast approaching; Glorfindel and she had decided against the one year betrothal period. Well, mostly it had been his wish, and she saw no reason to deny him. They would wed on the day of Tarnin Austa, once the songs have been sung. Her heart skipped beats when she thought about that, and she had to check her steps as she slipped suddenly, breaking in her song to catch herself with Gwaiforn's help.

Chuckling and shaking her head, An�ri� resumed her singing as she made for a cluster of willows that hung low over the water on the eastern shore. Not many knew of the hidden pool they held beneath their branches, its water cool even on the warmest of days, but Cealea had told her of it once, and An�ri� had taken the time to find it.

Pausing again, and thinking where she stopped her song prior to the slip, the elleth sighed and, when she could not remember, began at random,

"Some they know as passion, some as freedom, some they know as love and the way it leaves them, summer snowflake for a season when the sky above is blue �"

Other songs could be heard in bits and pieces as they drifted to her on the wind, for other ellith had decided to go beyond the city walls today. They stayed close to the city's shade of course, with various Elven-lords and warriors as escort, but the mood was high as they picked flowers and sang.

An�ri� thought she could see E�rendil and his mother in the distance, but even her Elven-eyes could not be sure of that, because there were so many about. Still, it warmed her heart to know the Princess was enjoying the day as well.

Just a week or so back, Idril and An�ri� had had a disturbing encounter with Maeglin again, something she did not wish to think about. The Elf-lord was up to no good, that much was certain; Idril trusted not his merry ways, so against what his nature had been before a recent mining expedition. An�ri� trusted him even less, knowing the way he felt about her Princess, and not liking the way he looked at her either.

She frowned, her voice fading into nothing, the only sound being the soft ripples on the Great Lake and Gwaiforn's breathing as she thought about this.

Glorfindel had told her Maeglin wished to force his hand for some reason. She could not see it, for Glorfindel had done nothing to the Mole. Well, apart from being Idril's companion and friend, and a good brother-in-arms to Tuor. Was that enough to earn the Elf's ire? She could not say, but whatever the cause, she had avoided him as much as possible lately.

Gwaiforn snorted and nudged her shoulder lightly, causing her to stumble. An�ri� rolled her eyes at the light charger and rubbed his muzzle, while finally entering the willows' shade. It was cool underneath the low-lying branches, and this close to the water a constant breeze blew. Both the horse and the rider enjoyed the respite from the already-burning sun.

Pushing a few branches aside, An�ri� led the stallion to the banks of the small off-side pool. A merry stream fed it, while the water then continued its flow into the Great Lake. But the liquid was clear, and the sands gentle, no stones to blemish them.

She took Gwaiforn's saddle and reins off, leaving him to graze under the shadow of the willows, while she slipped her gown off her shoulders. She was alone, and a swim in the morning would keep her fresh through the day. A bath could not compare at all.

Her chemise followed next, and she deftly folded her clothes and placed them on a rock near-by. Later she would dry in the patch of sun shinning through the leaves and dress again, but for now she was content with everything.

The water felt glorious against her skin, and An�ri� sighed as her toes dug into the soft sand underneath. At the deepest region of the pond, the water came to her mid-waist, just enough.

Her steps were slow as she made her way to the center, and once she was there she paused, lifting her face to the sun. The breeze played with her hair, lifting small strands of it and brushing over her skin. The warmth of Arien tickled her eyelids, cheeks and nose, and her whole body responded to the caress of promising Summer. While she enjoyed Winter, it was nice to be able to ride out without furs and heavy velvet for once.

A splash behind her made her turn, heart in her throat, but she laughed at her own skittishness. It was only Gwaiforn, who had come to drink from the pond. The horse's dark eyes told her she was being silly: he had been trained to look after his rider. Glorfindel had seen to it. There was nothing for her to fear.

Ducking under the water An�ri� left her stallion to his own devices while she enjoyed the cool comfort that the pool brought her. She swam with lazy, strong strokes; Ecthelion and Cealea had often taken their daughter to the minor lakes where she could play. Water was no stranger to her. She lounged back against it, her face tipped up to the sun as she listened to Ulmo's song in the ripples, and Manw�'s in the slight wind. They were just whispers, but they brought her comfort enough.

After a while she rose again and waded back to the shore, only to take a comb with her and go to the small waterfall that fell into the pool. Standing under it, the water pricked her skin, but it only made her laugh. Once she retreated from the flow An�ri� first ran her fingers through her long hair so as to not tug on it later, before she started combing it. It would be wildly curly if she did not do this, and that was a look she really did not like. While she did not give much to appearances, she certainly did not want to have a scarecrow nest on her head!

She was standing with the water just touching her lower back, rippling, when her skin suddenly prickled as if she was being watched. There was no sound next to the breeze � where was Gwaiforn?

An�ri� turned her head with a disconcerningly quick motion, her green eyes aligning first on the rocks where she had left her clothes and saddlebags. Behind that was Gwaiforn's attire.

And behind THAT Glorfindel stood, leaning against one of the willow trees.

He did not wear the colours of his house today, nor, indeed, was there a sign of the Flower anywhere on his clothing. He wore grey and green, seemingly melting against his surroundings. Only his golden hair gave him away, but that did not seem to concern him. His hands were crossed over his chest as he rested against the trunk lazily, muscles outlined against the fabric.

His eyes were as dark as the lushest sapphire stones.

She inhaled sharply, the sound loud even to her own ears, her heart drumming. She didn't even notice that her comb had slipped through her fingers and was now probably resting against the sand by her feet.

He had followed her from the moment Gwaiforn had stepped upon the grass of Tumladen. Gwainar could keep up with the youth easily enough, when asked. Initially, Glorfindel had only wished to see where she was going, as he was needed with a scouting party, but once he deduced her course he had changed his mind, and given command to the captain of his personal guard, Galdegir.

He knew of the pool beneath the willows; it was called dae-brithla in Sindarin, shadow-pearl. Many ellith used it, and many ellyn used the shade of willows to spy on them.

He had not thought An�ri� would go there as well, but he'd been pleasantly surprised when she'd set set Gwaiforn to gaze. Of course he was beginning to regret the decision of staying afterwards, because it was hard enough on him without this particular sight.

Glorfindel was usually known for his self-control and the tight leash he kept himself on. But he had found, from the moment he first saw An�ri�, that he was losing his grip. She lured him in with her innocence and youth, and despite the sometimes harshness that seemed to surround her, she was, to him, the most beautiful.

Right now, he was trying to decide whether he was to laugh or to remain solemn at the look on her face. It went from surprised to aghast, and finally to what he deduced as fear. Her hands came up to cover herself; of course he was not about to tell her it was far too late for that.

But the fear in her eyes cut deep. Perhaps this had not been the wisest road to take.

"I mean you no harm."

His voice was low, a rich timber that sent a shiver down her spine, not necessarily a frightened one. An�ri� was struggling to grasp the situation and master it on her end, but the sight of him lounging against a tree played havoc on her already-jumbled thoughts. She had seen him in dress of state, in part armour and leisurely; she'd never seen him in an outfit like this before. It emphasised the way his body was built, for if he was to encounter foes they should fear him at a glance. An�ri� could not help but watch the flow of muscle as he pushed away from the tree and lithely stepped into the sunlight.

Instinct drove her back, to the deepest region of the pond, despite the fact it helped her little; this might be her betrothed, but she was who she was.

He stopped when she moved; one of his hands came up in a gesture of peace.

"An�ri�, I truly did not wish to frighten you. I will not harm you. You are to be my wife, it would be a poor start of our union."

She finally found her voice: "Then why are you here?"

His lips quirked slightly around the edges, a smile that was almost there,

"Is it such a sin to follow the woman you love?"

Her heart beat erratically against her ribs, caged. An�ri� swallowed past the lump in her throat; he'd never used the word 'love' before, but it definitely had an impact. And it sent another of those treacherous shivers down her spine. Her body was going against the wishes of her mind.

"It is a sin to follow her and not tell her you are following."

This time he smiled, and crossed to the rocks. For half a heartbeat, An�ri� feared he would do something rash, but he simply folded himself into a sitting position on a flat stone. Closer to her, but still out of reach and out of water. If she moved back further she went into the shallows again; so she remained still.

"I agree, that is indeed a sin. And yet � do you begrudge me?"

His eyes met hers; the sapphires smoldered. An�ri� could almost taste the masculine power concealed behind that cool exterior. She could most definitely see that he was in tight control of himself, and it made her relax just a little.

She shook her head.

Her shoulders were less stiff now, though her hands remained where they were; Glorfindel fixed his eyes on her face. A safer course.

"How did you come past Gwaiforn?"

Her question woke him from his thoughts, and the lazy smile he gave unnerved her, he could see that.

"He might be your horse, my lady, but I taught him everything he knows. When he smelled his sire, he came to us willingly. He grazes with Gwainar now."

She nodded; Glorfindel wondered whether she thought this situation an odd one. Here they were talking about horses, while she stood naked in a pond! She must have guessed some of those thoughts when she looked at him next, because he could read it in her eyes.

"If you are done spying, my lord, I would like to return to my bath � and to my clothes. Without your close proximity, preferably."

He was definitely amused now, and she could see it. She pushed her chin out defiantly, willing him to leave, so she might reassemble the shaking pieces of herself.

"Close proximity � my lady, this is a far cry from it, I assure you."

"It is closer than I prefer."

His lips twitched; An�ri�'s body tensed at that, an inner voice told her to tread carefully.

"Ah, but it is far less close than what *I* prefer, An�ri�."

The water rippled with a splash, and suddenly he was before her, encompassing her whole view and blocking everything else out. Her breathing stopped altogether for a moment as her mind worked to process this new development. The first instinct was to flee, but when she took a step back, his hands were on her skin.

He had held her before, but never like this; he pulled her to him, against his chest, and she feebly pressed her hands there to no avail.

His blood roared by now, with the way she was looking up at him, the way the soft curves of her body molded and shaped themselves against his own. He heard her gasp once one when his hands landed flat on her lower back, pressing her close. Her eyes were wide as she felt what he had wanted her to feel.

"You have doubted long, my love," he murmured, keeping her right where she was despite her small attempts to free herself, "about whether or not I desire you. You seem to doubt the way our f�a call to each other � but have no fear. I desire you, as I have never desired another."

His voice was low, with just a hint of roughness to it as he pressed her to him. An�ri� found it difficult to breathe; with each inhale, her bossom pushed against his tunic, straining to be free and yet the way she seemed to fit against him was undeniable. His blue eyes smoldered, almost as if there was fire in them. And she could not deny what he said; it was far too obvious.

She fought to calm her racing heart, to no avail. Her body was betraying her, soundly; all she wished right now was for him to carry her to the bank and do � something.

He could see it in her eyes; the emeralds darkened and deepened, though he could also see she had little control over that. Glorfindel was going to have to be very, very careful here.

And yet he could not help himself; not with her in his arms, her father so far away. Not here.

He lowered his head, crushing his lips to her own, the kiss harder and more desperate than ever before. She yielded to him so easily, her lips parting and allowing his tongue entrance. The muscles in his arms coiled, blood rushing faster through his veins.

The sensations he was experiencing she could feel as well, and they both frightened and thrilled her. Her body seemed to sing to his touch, to the way his hands slipped down her bare skin, brushing the remaining water droplets away. Her fingers curled into the front of his tunic, as she battled with him for dominion in the kiss. Goosebumps crawled over her flesh, but he smoothed them aside with the warmth of his hands, which left fire in their wake.

Glorfindel broke the kiss, though wretch himself free would have been a more acurate description. His breathing was ragged, and so was her own; her eyes were glazed over, and the way her chest moved with each breath made him want more. Much, much more.

She did not understand why he had stopped; An�ri� had enjoyed the kiss. She wanted more, though she could not say exactly what it was that she yearned for suddenly. Flames kindled in the area where her stomach should be. She was glad of him holding her, for her knees felt like jelly.

He pressed his forehead to hers and stood very still, only gazing into her eyes. They remained like that until their breathing calmed, their hearts slowed and their skin cooled.

Finally, he moved, his eyes flicking with a sudden light.

"Forgive me, An�ri� � this was out of place. If your father knew �"

He cut himself off, looking away. An�ri� yearned to comfort him, to tell him it did not matter; she had enjoyed it as much as he. But no words would come.

Instead she could only watch as he tore himself from her, wading out of the pool and blending with the willows. Her arms closed around her again, not to cover herself, but to hold against the sense of loss and loneliness she suddenly felt, and the deep ache in her belly.

It was only when the water turned cold that she realised the shadows were lengthening, and hastened out, grabbing her comb from the bottom. Gwaiforn was where he should be, but of Gwainar there was no sign. All the way back to the city and even up the streets she had the feeling of being followed, but whenever she turned there was no one there. She told Elwen she would pass any meal and closed herself into her room, wishing Tarnin Austa would come sooner.

At least she was sure of one thing now: there was no doubt of Glorfindel's love for her, and the longing she faced was two-sided. He yearned too.

It was not really a comfort, but it would have to do until their wedding day.

Chapter 13 - Chapter XIII

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Early Summer of 510, FA
Tarnin Austa

As the silence stretched, and Arien's vessel started its journey West, An�ri� could feel the array of butterflies that had been with her since she'd woken the previous day flutter anxiously around her stomach.

That morning, she'd been woken by her father, something that hadn't occured since her first monthly blood.

Ecthelion had smiled, she remembered fondly, and asked if he could take her with him on a ride. She needed nothing more than her riding clothes; he would wait for her with Gwaiforn.

And he had been true to his word: Gwaiforn and his own horse, the fierce stallion Naragar, stood waiting just outside the fine dew sprinkling from the main fountain in the courtyard.

Her father had been silent as they rode to the Great Gate; and while An�ri� had anticipated he would take her further, perhaps out onto Tumladen, he did not. Instead, he had her dismount and they climbed the steps that lead them to stand directly above the gate, with a clear view of all the levels underneath them, the fields beyond, and the mountains in the distance.

It had been breathtakingly beautiful. usually, on the walls, she could not see the six levels that rose to meet the final seven, but the Great Gate had been constructed at a point that the vision of those upon it would be hindered by nothing.

"This is where I come each day," she heard her father's voice echo from her memory, his face a stoic mask that morning, "this is the final line of defense, should we ever need it, before anyone may reach the King and his own. And my men would give their lives long before they would allow that to happen."

She had not understood then, but she guessed it had something to do with the serious set of his face lately, with the way her own betrothed seemed to be distant and thinking of other things.

"Glorfindel will make you a fine husband, An�ri�, I've no doubt of that. Neither should you, for he loves you dearly. He is, however, a warrior, more so than myself. I thought I should remind you of that."

Why? She did not understand, she understood little of either men nowadays, and even Egalmoth was silent on the matter. Lalaith knew little of what ailed her husband, and if the Princess knew anything she would not say.

"I wish your mother could see you now, my little ray of sunshine; she would cry with happiness. Today, you become of the Golden Flower, moving from the spring farther into the meadow.

I have a gift for you."

And he had given her an intricate hair pin, looking so fragile that she had feared it would break upon the slightest touch, but her father had assured her that it would not. There was a golden rose upon it, sprinkled, as if with dew, with small diamonds.

"Your mother wore this on many occassions. Your grandfather gave it to her. I know she would have wished for you to have it."

With a light smile she thought of the same pin that now rested among the waves of her hair, holding a section out of her face. Of course she had worn it.

The rest of that day and the next had been spent in silent contemplation, and moving through her father's home to see whether she had stored and packed everything, to be moved and transferred to Glorfindel's house later on. Ecthelion remained home, and they spoke of many things, keeping each other company. Father and daughter, soon to be sundered by a man coming between them.

After the night vigil and the singing of the morning songs, her handmaidens drew her a bath, and An�ri� allowed them to clean her. They trimmed her nails, combed her hair until it fell past her hips shimmering, scented her skin with the flavour of white roses. For most of the day she remained at her father's home.

Idril had come to help her into her dress; it was probably for the best, considering An�ri� had never before seen anything quite so delicate and ornate at the same time. It was the Princess' gift to her best friend on her wedding day.

The gown was of the purest white, made of an airy fabric An�ri� couldn't name, and feared would expose too much, but once in place it proved to be just the right weight to settle against her skin. The bodice fit tight, the deep vee in the front reaching towards her stomach, covered with a flimsy lace design woven with golden thread.

Her hair they had left unbound, only pulling a front strand aside and pinning it. The only other ornament she wore was a sapphire stone on a slender golden chain, a gift from Glorfindel.

She had left the house with her father then, to go to the King's square and participate in some of the activities before Glorfindel would lead her to Gar Ainion.

They stood together now, the Lord of the Golden Flower splendid in a white tunic with golden embroidery. For once, he had forgone his usual vambraces, leaving his arms bare except for the fabric that covered them. The cloak of celandines he had kept.

And on her other side stood her father, in blue and silver, a mantle of soft grey drapping around his shoulders. An�ri� knew he was smiling without the need to look. He'd been smiling ever since they'd left the house, although she could detect sadness underneath the calm exterior. It pained her to know her leave-taking made him sad, but she was confident that he would be on the mend once he saw how happy she was with Glorfindel.

The sky darkened further, and a rippled movement went through the Gondolindrim: they were all waiting anxiously. An�ri� well remembered the last festival in the previous year, when she had given Glorfindel that celandine. Much had changed since then, especially with the deepening of her feelings towards him. She anticipated much of this day.

Behind her there was a frettful shuffling, and she peeked over her shoulder to see little E�rendil tug impatiently on the collar of his tunic. He wore a smaller duplicate of his father's attire, though granted Tuor was better at concealing any hasty feelings. She could see Idril's lips form a soft smile as she gently placed a hand on her son's head, calming him.

Turgon also watched the scene with affection in his eyes, and beyond the King, the other House Lords stood waiting for the music and Arien's sinking. Egalmoth, with Lalaith's arm happily wrapped around his own; Salgant and Aeriel, the latter stoic. Penlod with a smiling E�lasaid by his side. Caleniel, with her cheek resting on Galdor's shoulder. And many others, that eagerly awaited the evening that was so near, almost upon them, and yet still not here.

She felt Glorfindel take her hand, and turned her face around to look at him.

He'd followed her line of sight, watching with a fond smile as she seemed to observe E�rendil's obvious expression of discomfort. She truly did love the little Prince with all her heart, though he knew that feeling was different than the one she held for him. He'd often caught her daydreaming during their outings together, though when he'd asked she'd never explain anything.

It had driven him almost mad, not knowing her thoughts, but he never pressured her, for the tell-tale blush on her cheeks gave him some insight. Either his wife-to-be was fretting over how she would run his household, or she was thinking about their wedding.

He was more inclined towards the second option, knowing An�ri� would never really worry about how to order Elves about when it came to getting a job done. She would have no trouble adapting to her new home. The only problem would then be if she was afraid of what would happen after the exchange of rings.

Her betrothed was not far off the mark, though An�ri� was generally nervous about the whole ceremony, not just the night that would follow.

Then Arien dived over the mountains, and she felt her heart stutter as the voices within Gar Ainion burst into song, welcoming the first evening of Summer, and sang farewell to the vessel with the golden light of Laurelin.

Glorfindel looked at the elleth who's hand he held and smiled when she blushed under his gaze, before he turned and his attention went to Turgon again, under the shades of which they would be wed, just like Idril and Tuor years prior.

Many were with them, and many steered towards the King's square. They filled the temple to its full capacity, with Idril and Tuor standing close-by to the pair who would soon be joined until the ending of the world, with Ecthelion on the other side.

Turgon, who would be leading the ceremony, smiled when he looked at the gathered, and most importantly to the two radiant faces before him.

"Today, it is a joyful day to be the King," he declared, and many laughed; for indeed, it was a blessed day.

Blessed � and cursed. None had noticed the red glow coming from the north, so intent they had been on the west. None now saw the riders that hastened across Tumladen, riding hard and their beasts choking on the foam.

Inside Gar Ainion, all was peaceful as Turgon bade Ecthelion come forth with his gift for Glorfindel. It was a chain that had been in Ecthelion's family for years uncounted, made in the smithies of Tirion, a crystal masterpiece. This he gave to the groom and stepped aside.

Then Idril brought the ribbons, and the silver rings were taken off, placed upon a cushion little E�rendil held proudly. He beamed when An�ri� placed her own down, and she winked at him.

Glorfindel and An�ri� joined their right hands and Idril and Tuor wrapped the ribbons around them, while Turgon spoke about the waking of the Elves before the Dawn, of Eru and his will over his children, of Valinor and the Light of the Two Trees. He spoke of the Doom of the Noldor and the Princess withdrew, allowing all to see the joined hands.

"And now," the King said, "join before us by exchanging golden rings to replace the silver, and pledge yourselves to one another. And from this day henceforth, none may come between you, and nothing may sunder you."

Glorfindel went first: the golden band glimmered lightly in the sunlight that fell through the windows.

"Manw� and his brothers stand as my witnesses, that I shall love thee until the breaking of the world, and sing with thee in the Second Song. My sword shall never turn to drink thy blood, ever protecting thee and thine; the sons thou gives me shall bear it after me, and the daughters shall sing with us."

An�ri� felt a calm settle over her once the ring was in place, its weight reassuring to her even though thoughts of afterwards still brought her stomach to flips and flops. She stretched her fingers lightly, admiring the way the golden band now adorned her hand, and smiled up at Glorfindel, who's eyes were deep and full of love.

She took her own ring for him and slowly let it slip down his skin.

"Varda and her sisters stand as my witnesses that I shall love thee until the breaking of the world, and sing with thee in the Second Song. I shall forever care for thee and thine, tending thy wounds; the sons I bear thee shall follow in thy wake, and the daughters shall wave them goodbye as they ride into battle."

The traditional wedding vows had been adapted by those in exile, for these were not happy times, not those they had themselves wed in. For in Valinor, there was no need for weapons or warfare. Here in Middle Earth, however, times were dire, and none delusioned themselves into thinking they would be forever safe in the confides of their own home.

They were of the Eldar, the Fair Folk: Morgoth would come upon them someday. But when he did, the men would meet him with steel, and the women would tend their wounds.

Right now, however, An�ri� knew tears of joy as the ceremony was finished, with Idril cutting through the ribbons to free their hands. The whisps would be stored by the newly-weds as a token and memory of the day they shared all.

Glorfindel's smile threatened to split his face open as he pulled her close to him; she came willingly, laughing and tipping her face up towards him. Their lips met briefly in a kiss that solified this official ceremony for the benefit of friends and family, and when they pulled apart their eyes shone with the promise of that night.

Ecthelion was the first who congratulated them, wrapping his arms around his daughter, who shed a few tears, but quickly wiped them away.

"Look after her for me, Glorfindel."

"With my life," came the solemn reply even as An�ri� melted against her husband's side. But she was torn away from him when Idril and E�rendil came to congratulate her, and then Tuor, and many others.

Lalaith was both laughing and crying in joy: "You are one of us now, truly! Oh, you are so beautiful today, An�ri�! Glorfindel is so lucky."

"I hope he realises it too," Rog boomed from the side and swept the elleth into his arms while she laughed and tried, in vain, to free herself.

"Put me down!"

He laughed and released her, but she was then passed to Galdor who kissed her cheeks, and Duilin who apologised for the absence of his son, which both An�ri� and Glorfindel acknowledged but said they did not mind.

How could they when Duinhir was scouting Tumladen and the borders of the mountains to ensure their safety?

Maeglin was nowhere to be seen, something Glorfindel was grateful for. Turgon, however, clasped arms with him and kissed An�ri�'s cheek.

"You are one lucky Elf, my friend � she shines with her mother's radiance."

An�ri� blushed profoundly at that, waving the compliment aside, but the King simply smiled and drew her to him, hugging her.

"Cealea would have been proud of you, child, and she would have approved of your choice. Remember that."

This brought fresh tears to her eyes and she nodded, biting her lip to keep them from falling. Luckily, E�rendil jumped up to her then and she had to focus on him, something that always brightened her days.

"Ann�, Ann�! Did you see? I didn't trip with the pillow like so many said I would!"

"I saw! You were very dashing," she complimented him and settled the boy on her hip, her eyes seeking Glorfindel, who smiled at her from where he stood conversing with Tuor.

"I would not dare ruin your big day," the Prince said next and she looked at him again, his face all solemn and serious, "uncle Ecthelion said you would be very cross with me if I did, and I did not want you to be. I wanted you to smile � why are you crying?"

An�ri� had indeed broken into a fresh set of tears again, but she shook her head furiously and blinked them away, kissing E�rendil's forehead.

"Out of happiness, my Prince. You have made me and your parents very proud today, I could not have imagined a better person to keep our rings for us. Glorfindel was very happy too."

E�rendil brightened at that, his beaming smile alerting the Lord of the Golden Flower, who laughed and joined them.

"My little Prince, you should know by now I am always happy when you are around. Today especially."

His praise gave E�rendil's eyes a saucer-wide look and then an even brighter smile, while Glorfindel chuckled and leaned in, one hand on the small of his wife's back, kissing her temple.

She sighed softly and looked at him with longing in her green eyes. He touched her face with a soft smile, a promise in his blue eyes.

That was when a horn was suddenly blown outside.

Galdor whipped his head about � that had been his gate.

One after another, the gates replied in union, and the Lords' eyes met across the hall. Dread fell over the gathered as suddenly, the Great Gate sounded the trumpets, a dual cry of terror, and the sound of hooves broke across the road.

An�ri� hugged E�rendil closer to her on instinct; Glorfindel stepped to her, his hand reaching for a sword that wasn't there. Ecthelion stepped in front of the King even as a horse rounded the corner.

Duilin gave a shout as Duinhir's stallion collapsed, and the ellon flew from its back, stumbling as he tried to gain his ballance. Rog caught and steadied him, even as complete silence fell over those in Gar Ainion.

Duinhir gasped for breath and lifted his face, holding his side which was overflowing with blood.

Turgon felt as though someone had tossed him into the Grinding Ice again.

"Orcs!" the scout finally rasped, as Rog smacked his back to help him through a coughing fit.

"Dragons! Morgoth is upon us! They come from the North!"

Chapter 14 - Chapter XIV

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Early Summer of 510, FA
The Fall of Gondolin

Tuor was the first to move.

"A council! My lord, we must assemble!"

Turgon was forced out of the stupor he'd fallen into at Duinhir's arrival:

"Captains! Lords! To the King's square!"

Gar Ainion rustled as if a breeze had rushed through the leaves on the willows beside the Great Lake; men moved, hastening out, following the orders of their respective liege-lords.

Idril stretched her arms forward: "E�rendil!"

An�ri� handed the boy over to his mother then turned, catching Glorfindel by the sleeve of his shirt.

"An�ri�, follow the Princess and help her as much as you can," her husband said, briefly turning back to her. His hands touched her hips, his lips ghosting across her forehead. She trembled, eyes large with fear of the unknown as she looked up into his face.

"I must gather my warriors and secure the gate � stay with Idril!"

And he slipped through her fingers, like quicksilver, taking only three steps before breaking into a run out among the pillars.

Someone tugged at her side, and the elleth turned to face her father.

"Atar!"

"An�ri�, it is as we've feared."

His voice was a breeze, a murmur so fast she barely heard him, and his lips were pressed close to her ear.

"Run home, find the gifts from your off-age ceremony. The ones from Egalmoth and Tuor, do you remember them? Try and find something else to wear, if you can."

There was a screech from outside suddenly, and the women within the temple cowered; An�ri� shrank against her father's chest on instinct.

"Idril, gather the women and children and return here!" Tuor's voice rose over the commotion. The golden-haired Princess nodded and turned, still holding her son close to herself.

"An�ri�, I will need your help."

"I must go home, I will go by the Road of the Fountains and send the women here," she replied, already turning, as her father also ran from the temple with the speed of wind.

Idril nudged her: "Go!"

And An�ri� ran � like so many others. The women streamed from Gar Ainion out onto the streets while a hasty council was called by the men upon the King's Square. Tuor's angry voice could be heard even among the commotion, though none could discern the words. The voices of the conversing warriors rose and fell in cadence, as if in song, despite the song not being gentle at all.

Another horn was blown, and a cry rose from the lower levels. An�ri� skidded to a stop by the wall, palms landing against it harshly and she could feel her skin protest, but she leaned over to try and see.

The fields of Tumladen were black with the spawn of Morgoth.

Dread filled her heart, and she turned and ran, cutting through a side alley and sending whoever she could find towards the center of the city. Her slippers were not made for such cruel work, and she could feel her feet complaining as they hit the pathway over and over again in her quest to get to the Fountain abode.

With a hammering heart, she plummeted through the gates and found the mansion in chaos.

"My lady!" Elwen cried when she saw her. An�ri� was glad to see her handmaiden had some sense about her � she'd been trying to fasten the clip on a young boy's cloak.

"Elwen, how many are here? Never mind � gather all you can find, all of them, and run for the temple. Look for princess Idril, and stay there!"

"Yes ma'am," the raven-haired elleth replied and tugged on the boy's hand, hastening away, calling names as she went.

An�ri� mounted the stairs, bursting into her rooms. Where had she put the gifts? The boots would come in handy now, at least. And the cloak � there was also the bow and arrows, those were in the stables.

There was a roar that shook through the foundations of Gondolin, forcing her to grip the table for support, and horns were blown in reply, a challenge �Rog had assembled his men, the heavy-clad knights of his House. But something red filled her vision from the right � turning her head, she screamed.

Fire.

Dragons had somehow scaled the walls; Rog and Duilin could not hold with arrows alone, and even though the Lord of the Hammer of Wrath made a desperate attempt to push the monsters out, they were advancing quickly. Much too fast for the defenders to group properly. The horns rang out in desperate cries of retreat to gain better fighting ground.

She saw the brilliance of the Enemy's plan then: they had been ambushed during the festival, when even the guards on the gates were absent and none carried weapons. Before they could properly place defences, Morgoth's minions were already upon them.

Tears rose in her eyes, but she shook her head and forced her body to move again. So little time, so much to do.

Thankfully, by some hidden foresight, she'd placed most of the gifts into one bag, and this she now snatched, even as she pulled her wardrobe open. There was no time for laces, she only yanked a pair of leggings under her dress, and slipped her feet into the soft boots. The hairpin was tossed into the bag, before she ran out of the room upon a call.

"My lady! The walls are overrun!"

"No time, do not think of that!" she replied, flying down the stairs again only to bump into Lasgow, "Run, to my father! I go to find Idril. Run!"

They parted ways and she slung the satchel over her shoulder, dashing towards the stables. The horses could feel something was wrong; Gwaiforn was trying to bring down the walls of his stall when she reached him.

"Shh shh!" she soothed the beast, even as she untied him and let him loose. There was no way she'd be able to save him. Grabbing Duilin's bow and arrows, An�ri� hastened out into the streets again.

Darkness had descended now; it only added to the fires that now rose to the north of the city. They licked at walls and ground, breaking into Gondolin and swallowing it whole. And among them rose a tall, dark form, its nostrils coated with smoke. When it opened its jaws, fire burned out.

Paralysed, she couldn't move for a moment, until a scream broke through to her thoughts.

Turning, An�ri� ran in the direction where Idril and Tuor had their abode.

Her body was screaming loudly, trying to make her stop, but she pushed it harder, her long legs carrying her swiftly through the many Elves on the streets. They let her pass, too busy with their own agendas. Morgoth's attack was thorough, thought-through. None would escape him this time. Turgon and his line would be broken.

She tripped and fell, landing hard on her knees and crying out; but Glorfindel's words roused her again and she scrambled, resuming her run.

The house was eerily quiet when she reached it, so that when she banged the door open she scared herself.

"Idril? Idril! E�rendil!"

Her voice echoed down the empty hallway; panicked, An�ri� ran down the whole length of the house before she suddenly saw a sight that turned her blood to ice.

Maeglin had Idril by the hair with one hand, his other holding E�rendil to his body. In the courtyard, the few men of the House of the Wing were fighting their own kin of the Mole.

"IDRIL!"

This time, the dark Elf heard the scream and turned; he let go of the Princess momentarily as a fury flung herself at him in a flourish of white skirt and golden hair.

"You monster! She is your COUSIN!"

An�ri�'s hand collided with Maeglin's cheek, her nails drawing blood as she forced the Elf, through her body weight, to release E�rendil, who sobbed as he landed on the stone.

"Witch!" the King's nephew snarled, and flung her aside, but tangled with her belt and only managed to pull her back to him. By this time, An�ri� had already pulled Tuor's birthday gift out. The dagger slashed through the air and through Maeglin's clothing. He screamed and yanked aside, tearing something in the process. The knife had gone through his arm.

"Kinslayer!" An�ri� screamed and flung herself at him again. There was no other thought in her mind, no other vision before her eyes than her protecting her Princess and the little half-Elven boy.

"An�ri�!" Idril called, but Ecthelion's daughter ignored her.

Her fist smacked against the side of Maeglin's face loudly, but by then he'd grabbed her by the hand, and yanked her head back by her hair. She screamed in pain, trying to kick him but her legs tangled with the skirt of her dress.

He spat in her face and flung her aside: with a thundering crack, she landed against the wooden summer table in Idril's garden, and it collapsed under her weight. Her head met the ground hard among the table's remnants, and An�ri�'s world turned black.

E�rendil cried in anger as Maeglin slapped his mother aside and grabbed him again, intent on tossing him over the walls.

But suddenly there was a shout, and Tuor jumped over An�ri�'s immobile form, storming towards his kinsman, his men following in his wake. They grappled and fought even as An�ri� groaned, eyes opening again. She saw shadows wrestling for dominion, but her thoughts were sluggish from the blow. There was a metallic taste in her mouth, a ringing in her ears, and the side of her face felt sticky.

"Atar! ATAR!"

E�rendil!

An�ri� flung herself forward without so much as a second thought. It was chance more than design that she managed to grab hold of the boy's ankle and tug him out of Maeglin's hands, down against her. Vertigo hit and she could barely see, but she could feel the boy's form as he curled against her and she wrapped herself around him, closing her eyes against the waves of dizziness and nausea.

Suddenly there was an other-wordly scream, and then silence. Then �

"Tuor!"

Idril's voice cut through and a strong, but gentle pair of arms was dragging An�ri� off the little Prince.

"An�ri�, it's me!" Tuor exclaimed as she snarled at him and her hand came up in a slap. Her vision cleared enough to see the man's face, but she had to shake her head a few times.

"Maeglin flung her against the wall," she could hear Idril explain, "she came just before you, and tried to stop him. Your knife wounded him."

Through the ringing, An�ri� managed to focus enough to see the blade they were talking about, and she curled her fingers around the hilt.

"Valar, her face!"

She couldn't take the taste anymore and so she spat to the side, stumbling to her feet.

"I told you, she hit the table and then the ground," she heard Idril explaining while a gentle hand wiped away at the side of her face. An�ri� cringed lightly, but with another shake of her head, she managed to stay alert.

She lifted a hand, touching the sticky substance there, and when the flickering light of flames touched her fingers, she saw it was almost black.

Blood.

Her stomach churned, but she fought to keep herself steady, focusing instead on the conversation of her Princess and her husband.

"Gar Ainion," Tuor rasped, turning to his wife, "go to the temple and wait for me there. I will come for you, I promise. Go!"

Idril wept now, but did as she was told, taking E�rendil by one hand and An�ri� by the other, dragging them out of the house and into the streets again, leaving the warriors to deal with the aftermath.

Walking forced her to think, and her mind cleared; An�ri� was in control of herself and her body again when they cleared the main street.

"Is the city lost?"

"Yes," came the reply even as Idril went through a shortcut. An�ri� wanted to ask, but hideous snarls and screeches around them forced her mouth shut. Silver trumpets cried.

Orcs had broken through the defenses.

The temple was full of women and chilren when they arrived, but thankfully it seemed that the main fighting was taking place well away from it.

An�ri� was directed to Lalaith, who knew some of the healing art, and she was able to clean her face, exposing a gash and bump above her temple where she'd scraped her skin. It would heal soon enough, and it looked better without all the excess blood around it.

The blood had dripped down onto her dress, she noticed once she was able to take a look. The white material was stained with spots of red. It seemed to have been torn too, and the ashes that rose from fires had coated it grey. Her wedding gown now resembled a funeral one.

She closed her eyes and finally had time enough to think of her father, with the ringing of the flutes sounding close-by. The House of the Fountain entered the battle to music. And she also thought of her husband, who was who knew where, fighting for his people, his King. His life.

There was nothing else to do then for the women than wait, although Idril had groups go out from time to time to bring what food and blankets they could. It was a dangerous business; one group did not return. But others did and what provisions could be found were then distributed and packed somehow.

For it was clear to all by then that Morgoth meant to erase Gondolin from the face of Middle Earth, and when Elwen, returning from one of the scoutings, wept while explaining that the King's square was surrounded, the women thought it was over.

E�rendil wanted to cling to his mother, but Idril had much to do; An�ri� called him over when she saw a look of intense sadness mingled with displeasure cross the Princess' face, and she cuddled him to her, murmuring soothing words and trying to comfort him. He was no more scared than anyone else in Gar Ainion then, but he was just a boy, and he could not hide it well.

It was dawning in the east when the city finally fell, without Morgoth so much as properly stretching his arm. Turgon had not heeded the warnings of Ulmo, and the Lord of Waters had abandoned him.

Commotion sounded outside the temple, and the women were all prepared for the worst when a golden-haired warrior burst through the doors.

"Glorfindel!"

An�ri�, freed of E�rendil for the moment as he'd gone to help Lalaith with some blankets, tossed herself over the short distance to her husband, and he caught her to him, crushing her against his chest. Her breath left her, the breastplate of his armour digging into her in uncomfortable places, but she clung to him in desperation, needing him to tell her it would be okay.

He was dishelved, coated in ashes, eyes bloodshot, but he was alive.

Behind him Egalmoth, Galdor and Tuor swept in.

"The city has fallen! Turgon gave me the command," the mortal announced, and a wordless look passed between him and his wife.

The King was no more.

An�ri� touched Glorfindel's face again and again, but when he shifted she felt something digging into her back; behind them, Idril and Tuor were conversing on their path, and on how many had fallen.

But the Lady of the Golden Flower squirmed, trying to find some comfort, and her husband released her.

"Your head � what happened?"

His voice was low, urgent, but her eyes had noticed what he held. The longsword in an ornate scabbard, decorated with crystal and coated in blue, the fountain etched into the handle.

Glorfindel followed her gaze as palor drapped over her face like a shadow, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Your father � An�ri�, I'm sorry, he fought the captain of the Balrogs. He � they drowned in the King's Fountain."

Glorfindel's voice broke at that, as he watched his wife stretch her fingers to touch the fountain, and her eyes shimmered with tears. But there was no time to mourn properly, as Tuor called a retreat, and they went to find the secret way he and Idril had had constructed, fearing something like this might happen.

It was a blur, and fog surrounded her. Her father was gone. There would be no more songs from his flute. An�ri� felt numb and cold. She felt Glorfindel's arm around her waist as he dragged her forward, and was thankful, for she could not have moved on her own. But she walked as if blind, going where he took her.

Darkness swallowed the survivors while dragons, balrogs and orcs plundered and burned Gondolin the Fair.

Chapter 15 - Chapter XV

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Early Summer of 510, FA
Retreat from Gondolin

The tunnel that Idril and Tuor had had dug out was cold.

Very cold.

It was even colder than how she felt. An�ri� shivered slightly against Glorfindel's side, and even though she fought to keep it to a minimum, he noticed.

"You have to be freezing � where is your cloak?"

"I-i-in m-my b-b-bag," she stuttered in a hushed voice. All around them there were other muted conversations, the soft fall of slippered feet, the heavy clang of boots, the sometimes chink of metal. The survivors of the city that was burning behind them and above their heads were slowly making their way to the other end of the Way of Escape.

"Let me get it for you."

His hand slipped to her back, the warmth of his skin amending some of her shivering � the garment she wore really wasn't fit for underground, it was supposed to last only until the bedroom � and opened the satchel she carried without stopping.

Moments later, the soft cloak Lalaith had woven was wrapped around her, and An�ri� huddled into it as best as she could while continuing to walk.

It was the first she'd spoken since Gar Ainion. The darkness in front of them was soothing compared to the butchering red and orange of the wild fires raging behind. Fire, the opposite of water. Water, the one substance that flowed through fountains. Fountains, her father's emblem � and his death.

But, removed from the close proximity of the square � the beautiful place where water droplets sparkled dew into the air, where the fragrance of surrounding flowers rose, where the King's Tower, now demolished and colapsed, according to the soldiers, rose like a spike in the morning � she could think with more clarity.

At least her father had met his end in water, and not on a sword. Glorfindel had spared her the details, but An�ri� understood enough to know that Ecthelion had done everyone a great deed � and a great sacrifice.

Her heart bled, but it did so in silence now, as she leaned into her husband's side for support and some warmth, and he readjusted his arm around her to keep her there.

She still had Glorfindel, as Lalaith had Egalmoth, Idril Tuor and Caleniel Galdor. It was more that could be said for many of the others going with them. If she strained her ears, An�ri� thought she could hear muted sobs.

So much death, so many lives lost. Innocent lives, Elves who had never done Morgoth any wrong at all. What right had he to destroy their city as he did?

Her pain gave way to anger, resentment towards the one who sat in Angband with the Silmarils in his crown. The feelings shifted more with each passing step that took her farther from the place of her birth and her home. She was firm in her decision to never let the Enemy have his way. She would thwart him somehow, even if it only meant burning the crops so his troops would have nothing to feed on.

"How much longer?"

Glorfindel, surprised to hear her break the silence, leaned close, lips brushing against her ear softly,

"I do not know, but Tuor and Idril do. We will be out soon, I should think."

She nodded and he felt her back straighten, her shoulders not slouching anymore. He allowed her to stand on her own and simply took her hand. Their fingers entwined, and they walked in silence then, following after their rulers.

The Elves dared not stop, not even to eat or rest. There was no guarantee that they were safe � the Way of Escape lead only to the outer wall of Gondolin, from there on they would have to travel across Tumladen before they reached the mountains, and any chance of survival. Idril knew this well, and she it was who urged them all on when their energies seemed to fail.

An�ri� heard a shuffling sound and her eyes aligned on a small figure waiting just around a corner. The lamps they carried, hastily taken, gave very little light, but it was enough to discern the star upon the boy's shoulder.

Wordlessly, the elleth knelt, opening her arms, and E�rendil scuttled over to her, wrapping his arms around her neck and burrying his face there.

Standing, settling the Prince on her hip, An�ri� resumed her walk with Glorfindel shadowing her side.

"Atar and Amm� are not happy," the boy murmured.

Glorfindel lifted a hand to stroke his hair.

"We have had to leave our home, little Prince. None of us is happy."

E�rendil turned his head to peek from under An�ri�'s chin, big grey eyes looking up at the golden-haired warrior with a solemn sadness. Then he turned back into the elleth's neck.

"Ann�, Altatar isn't with us anymore."

An�ri� surpressed a sigh and simply kissed the boy's forehead, stroking his hair.

"I know, little one. I know. Hush, try to sleep. I will carry you and keep the bad dreams away."

The Prince yawned, hugging her closer, and she returned the gesture. The couple didn't speak anymore, though Glorfindel was attentive enough to keep an eye on his wife, to see whether she would need help with the boy. And indeed, during the march she shifted him to his arms once, only to rest a little and eat a morsel passed to her. Then she took him back. Throughout this, E�rendil didn't stir. The fright of his uncle's attack coupled with Gondolin's massacre had taken its toll on him.

Under cover of darkness, the survivors emerged by a shallow pool, in the shade of the great walls. Above them, the smoke and stench rose in the air, and foul cries tore through. The plunder was as of yet not over.

Here, the group seemed to come to a discord.

"We cannot follow the Way of Escape any more," Tuor argued with Lasgow, one of the few surviving men of Ecthelion's household, "it is in plain sight. If we take it, we will die. Is that your wish?"

"Your way is no better," the captain scoffed in return, ignoring the glare directed at him by Idril, "you think you can make it across the plain otherwise? We will be spotted and hunted like rabbits."

An�ri� looked at them with a tired expression, and put E�rendil down among some blankets and satchels to stretch her back and accept a mouthful of water. She had little energy to argue with her father's captain right now, though by rights he would have to listen to her.

Glorfindel touched her cheek and she looked at him. His eyes were unreadable, but his kiss was welcomed. For a brief moment she melted against him again, forgetting that they were on the run, forgetting that they had no home anymore. It was their wedding day, and they would be one soon.

But the moment ended and he left her, walking over to where many others had now gathered for the argument. An�ri� sank to the ground and groaned softly, stretching her legs out a little.

A hand held out a square of some dark substance to her.

"Eat some," Caleniel encouraged, sitting down with her, "it will help with the pain."

An�ri� smiled in thanks and nibbled on the offered sweet, waiting for the decision.

Incredibly, the group split, Lasgow leaving the main portion and striking out in the direction of the Way of Escape directly. An�ri� was not foresighted, but something told her that tonight was the last when she would ever see her father's captain. She whispered a prayer for him and turned away.

"The wood folk sometimes venture into Tumladen," she heard Galdor say, "they know me. Perhaps, if you will wait a few moments, I can go and call one."

"Go, and swiftly � we cannot linger," Tuor replied before turning to his wife.

The next thing she remembered was Glorfindel's face hovering over her.

"Wake up � we are leaving."

An�ri� blinked and jumped to her feet, only to experience a wave of nausea and a splitting pain in her skull. Her husband caught and steadied her.

"Easy! Nothing is wrong, we are simply moving."

"Why did you let me fall asleep?" she murmured, accusation thick on her voice even as she unclasped her cloak to rearrange it.

"You needed the rest. Galdor has found one of the Wood Elves. He will lead us over Tumladen."

Turning her head she saw he was right � a tall Elf stood conversing with Tuor. His hair was dark, his face sharp, and he was clad in green and brown.

"We follow Legolas," the Lord of the Wing declared, "stay together, but do not cluster."

A murmured agreement, and they were off again. An�ri� kept stride with Glorfindel in silence, and he didn't know whether she was tired or sad. She said little, ate little and drank only a bit of water, but kept going, keeping up with the pace that had been set. Wordlessly he shadowed her, though when he noticed her shivering again, he bade her stop.

His cloak with celandines came off and he wrapped her in it, before putting the grey one over as well. Warm now, she thanked him by briefly stepping into the circle of his arms, but they had to move. So they fell in with the column again, holding hands and trudging on.

There came a shout suddenly, and An�ri�'s heart froze over again as she turned around. In the lifting darkness, they could see a group running after the main column. They were pursued.

There was someone clinging to the back of Hendor, Idril's chief servant.

"The Prince!"

But Tuor had already seen, and the warriors at the back had as well. As one they turned, their bows at ready, and arrows flew. Elves needed little light to find their foes: those pursuing were dead quickly, and with very little sound.

An�ri� ran as fast as she could to where Hendor was gasping for breath.

She hadn't even noticed that E�rendil was not with them, so tired and disoriented she'd been when Glorfindel woke her. She had thought Idril had taken him.

Now, she pulled the child to her and wept, spreading kisses over his face.

"Come," Glorfindel said after a moment, taking her by the arm, "let us take him to his mother."

Idril wept as much and more as An�ri� had, keeping tight hold on her son then. How they had fallen behind no one knew, and Hendor was too weary to explain, only having enough strength to walk.

So they walked, and Legolas led them safely through the shadows of Tumladen. No orc or dragon from Gondolin saw their passage � but of Lasgow and his there came no word, and none ventured out of Tumladen. A dragon waited for them at the end of the Way of Escape, and Tuor's words came true: they were all slain.

At the foot of the mountains Legolas took his leave.

"I go back to my kin," he said, bowing to Tuor, "but your plight will be known. News of the fall of Gondolin will travel fast."

They parted, the Elf disappearing into the grass like the shadows he so loved.

An�ri� stumbled when they started climbing up on goat tracks, but Glorfindel caught her, and continued doing so as they went higher. They were both weary, but she was no warrior. He, at least, could demand this sacrifice of his body.

Then Aeriel suddenly shrieked, and would have fallen to her death if Caleniel's reflexes had not been quick. But she backed away quickly as well, though her head turned upwards sharply.

An�ri� could feel that she was very close to breaking.

"What now?"

The answer to that came in form of a rock, which hit Elwen across the forehead as she looked up, sending her backwards and into the chasm that opened to their right.

With wide emerald green eyes, An�ri� looked up.

Far above there came a cackle, a hideous sound, and peebles and stones suddenly rained in plenty on the survivors. Orcs that had been left as rearguard for Morgoth were having the time of their lives picking Elves and flinging stones down upon them.

"Run! Tuor, Idril, RUN!" Glorfindel shouted, his hand landing on An�ri�'s shoulder and pushing her on, head ducked.

They ran.

It was not easy; the trail was thin and narrow and dangerous. Very often someone would scream and then collapse or fall to their death. It only took a misstep and it was over. An�ri� remembered little of the run in later days except for the pain and the path she kept her eyes on. It becamee a continuous blur of a steep climb, falling rocks, and aching feet.

Suddenly there was a halt � and a screech that rose among the orcs. It vowe and displayed in cadences, right before a rumble shook the mountain side, sending more to their deaths.

She turned in union with Glorfindel, and looked back down the line of refugees.

Shadow, and flame.

It rose after the Elves, plowing through the last lines as if they were nothing but blades of grass in its way.

An�ri� grasped Glorfindel's arm, fingers digging into his vambraces as their eyes met, and her heart painfully skipped a beat.

He is a warrior, more so than myself. I thought I should remind you of that.

"No!"

He turned fully, using his free hand to cup her face. An�ri� felt the fear and despair and panic latch onto her.

"Please. Please, don't go. Please, please ..."

His heart broke, but as the Balrog behind them rumbled closer, Glorfindel steeled himself.

"I have no choice. I swore to protect the people of Gondolin. Idril and Tuor and the rest, and YOU must survive. Spread the news of Gondolin's fall. Live."

Tears fell down her cheeks as she clutched him to her in a desperate attempt to keep him there. His lips crushed against her own, brutal, demanding. His. Something heavy was pressed into her hands.

"I will find you again," he vowed, releasing his hold on her father's sword. It felt clumsy, not reassuring.

"You are the last of the Fountain, and you are my heir. I love you. I will find you."

Then he was gone, running to meet the Balrog, who roared a challenge when he saw the warrior with golden hair.

Blinded by tears, but knowing he would never forgive her if she did not honour his final words, An�ri� made the ultimate sacrifice, the hardest choice she would ever have to make in all her life: turning in the opposite direction from the coming challenger, she ran as fast as she could, ripping her heart out, and hugging the sword close to her.

The Flame of Gondolin.

Ironic that it was named after fire when her father so favoured water. But she understood its message now. It was the flame that would keep Gondolin alive for them in their hearts.

How she managed to reach a safer vantage point, she would never know, but when she turned back the way she came, Glorfindel and his opponent were fighting on the other side of the canyon. Her husband shone like a fiery spark in the shadow of the monster. An�ri� felt her heart in her throat as she watched the dance of death upon the edge, watch Glorfindel hack the monster's arm off.

They fell from the precipice together in a tangle of limbs, to the screams of those watching.

But she had known it would come to this. Glorfindel, weary as he was, despite being a great warrior, could never have survived. And yet it still hurt so badly, to see him fall, see the golden hair ripple out above him as he stretched his arms towards the sky in a final farewell.

An�ri� didn't even see the eagles Manw� had finally sent to aid the Gondolindrim, didn't notice that the falling stones had ceased.

Somehow, she imagined his eyes locked with hers for the briefest of moments: so blue, so deep, so infinitely beloved.

He fell into the shadows and mists that surrounded the roots of the Encircling Mountains.

She screamed.

Atar - Quenya, father
Amm� - Quenya, mother
Altatar - Quenya, grandfather
Legolas - no, this is not the Legolas we know and love from 'The Lord of the Rings'; it is another Elf who shares the same name

Chapter 16 - Epilogue

EPILOGUE
Autumn of the year 511, FA

It took her very little time to carefully secure the satchel she'd saved from her father's house in Gondolin.

An�ri� tied one of the last knots together and fastened it, making sure nothing could fall out. But this sort of work was only for the hands � her mind was free to wander.

It was autumn now, but summer had held her in its arms, once. She'd been a laughing maid then, on the eve of her wedding. Married to Gondolin's best warrior, smiling in his hold.

That had all changed because of one power, one malice.

She did not weep for Gondolin; the city had been prophecised to fall, she'd learned that from Tuor on the way through the mountains. Turgon should have listened to the mortal man, the son of his old friend Huor.

She did not weep for her father. Ecthelion had lived a long and full life, a life that had become split when his wife had died. He had loved his daughter yes, she knew he did, but in his heart he'd yearned for Cealea. And he had gone through water, embraced by Ulmo he so loved and passed on to Mandos. He was with her mother now.

She did not weep for her husband. Glorfindel had made his choice, his own sacrifice. She could well blame him for choosing death over her, but what was one death against so many others? He had saved them all. It was hypocricy to think otherwise. And he had loved her, despite her insecurities and wild nature. It was enough to excuse him in her eyes, at least after the initial pain had passed.

The eagles had lifted his body from the chasm, and Idril had led her to him. He'd seemed so peaceful there, with his eyes closed and his features relaxed. Like he was only sleeping. Like he was not gone at all.

The others had given her some privacy, although Tuor had had to come take E�rendil away; the boy had refused to leave her side. An�ri� had been grateful, for she had not wished the child to see her anguish and grief.

Two men she had loved more than anything else had perished. She was alone.

"Wait for me," the whisper seemed to embrace her. Her own words, murmured into his ear. His lips had been cold to the touch, cold and unmoving, but still soft. She could imagine the honeyed scent of his breath.

Her fingers had been numb when she worked through the fastenings of his vambraces, the design of intricate gold the only reminder of who their bearer was. After a few moments Lalaith had stepped up, her face streaked through with tears, and helped her with swift moves.

She had them on now, the vambraces. They had had to be tightened more than with her husband, for her forearms were more slender than his, and yet just wearing them she felt stronger. Closer to him. She would carry them in memory of the warrior she'd married.

One eagle had also brought his sword. This, too, An�ri� had taken, slipping it back into the ornate scabbard laid with gold, swinging it over her shoulder, with the Flame of Gondolin settled on her hip.

She would not let plunderers take that lot.

They had burried him there, in the mountains, covering him with stones so that none might ever disturb his grave. The eagles helped, lowering heavy boulders upon the crude tomb. She'd been the first to turn from it and follow Idril the rest of the way.

It had been hard, she could see it now as she reflected, by the pools and in the shade of willows. Hunger had come upon them, and they had wandered long and far, for the Way of Escape, and the mountain paths, were obscure and their trails flimsy. Tuor had gotten them lost more than once, but always, he had gotten them out as well. She trusted him with her life now.

Egalmoth stood close-by to her, waiting for her to finish, she knew. Never again would a smile cross his face. Lalaith, the sweet cousin Ecthelion had loved as a sister, had been too weak and fragile to last the road. When summer had turned to autumn she'd given her last breath into her husband's kiss.

An�ri� tugged impatiently on the satchel strap.

They had come to Nan-tathren weary but alive, and here they then rested for a full season. It was easy here, peaceful. But the valley of willows would always echo the laments the Gondolindrim made and sung into the night skies. An�ri� suspected even Ulmo wept in his watery palace beneath the waves.

For her part, she never added her voice to song. The only song worth singing, to her, was that of the niphrendil flower that both Ecthelion and Glorfindel had counted dear to them, but that she could not, for it brought tears into Egalmoth's eyes. Lalaith had loved it well.

E�rendil had grown and matured, despite being only eight years old. The loss of so many had etched itself into his young face.

She remembered when he'd come to her, a few weeks into their stay in the valley. Blissfully happy, but obviously discontent with something. They had grown even closer during the time on the run, and Idril encouraged this bond.

So when he'd settled beside her she had put down the blanket she'd been mending, and listened to him.

Of course his choice of topic had not been the best.

"Has your father gone ahead, Ann�? I cannot find him, and Atar will not tell me where he is. Perchance uncle Ecthelion has gone to find wood for my flutes?"

Such an innocent mind, she reflected, not without pain; to be tainted with such sorrow. It had taken her a moment to be able to reply without tears:

"Nay, my Prince. My father is lost to us, just like your grandfather. He has remained in Gondolin."

That had wobbled the boy's lower lip, and he'd ran from her. For the next few days he had avoided her, but after a week he returned to her side. She learned from Idril later on that he'd been mortified with himself for not guessing at once, and worried he had hurt her.

"Almost done?"

An�ri� turned her head to look at Egalmoth and nodded,

"Just one last tug."

She'd stored what she held dear into the satchel, with the bag itself beind precious, because it was of Gondolin. Her hairpin, the gift of her father. The stained and tattered wedding dress, which she left as it was. The chain with the sapphire Glorfindel had given her. His cloak with celandines. Duilin's bow and set of arrows were strapped to the side, as was Glorfindel's sword.

An�ri� rose; the leggings and jerkin were better than a dress when one had to move so much. Her boots had weathered through all. If only she could have saved Gwaiforn � or Gwainar.

But it was too late for that.

Lalaith's cloak came around her shoulders, with the satchel and the ornaments to her back. Her father's sword was at her hip, Tuor's knife in her boot.

"If not for the colour of your hair I would say you are Ecthelion," Egalmoth murmured as she turned to him.

She did not smile.

"I am my father's daughter, and my husband's wife � their heir. I cannot falter now. Not when we have come this far."

Her uncle inclined his head; Tuor's horn was sounded, and the refugees moved once more, after a season of hibernation.

An�ri� turned her back on the valley of willows, on the Encircling Mountains and on Gondolin, on all that had been lost. She found E�rendil waiting for her, and they left together, to the sound of a lament the Gondolindrim sang again.

She did not sing, but stayed close to her uncle Egalmoth, who walked beside her. They had both lost many dear to them in the last season. And yet coming this far, they could not give up.

E�rendil saw something and ran ahead, showing it to An�ri� animately.

She did not smile.

Chapter 17 - Cast of Characters

FLAME OF GONDOLIN

Alphabetical List of Characters

Aeriel, Noldo noblewoman, wife to Salgant
An�ri�, Noldo/Vanya noblewoman, daughter of Ecthelion and Glorfindel's wife
Aredhel, Noldo noblewoman, Turgon's sister and Maeglin's mother
Artanis, Noldo/Teleri noblewoman, later called Galadriel, daughter of Finarfin
Aul�, one of the Valar, Smith of the Powers
Caleniel, Noldo noblewoman, Galdor's wife
Cealea, Noldo/Vanya noblewoman, Ecthelion's wife, died on Tumladen
Duilin, Noldo nobleman, Lord of the Swallow, scout
Duineth, Noldo nobleman, Duilin's son, slain on Tumladen
Duinhir, Noldo nobleman, Duilin's son, at one time An�ri�'s admirer
E�lasaid, Noldo noblewoman, Penlod's wife
E�rendil, Half-Elven, Tuor and Idril's son, prince of Gondolin
Ecthelion, Noldo nobleman, Lord of the Fountain, Warden of the Great Gate
Egaith, Noldo nobleman, Egalmoth's son
Egalmoth, Noldo nobleman, Lord of the Heavenly Arch, Warden of the Bronze Gate
Elenw�, Noldo/Vanya noblewoman, Turgon's wife, perished at the crossing of Helcarax�
Elwen, Noldo Elf, one of An�ri�'s handmaidens
Finarfin, Noldo/Vanya nobleman, son of Finw�, High King of the Elves remaining in Valinor
Fingolfin, Noldo nobleman, son of Finw�, High King of the Elves in exile
Finrod, Noldo/Vanya nobleman, son of Finarfin
Finw�, Noldo, High King of the Noldor
Galdegir, Noldo/Vanya nobleman, captain of Glorfindel's guard
Galdor, Noldo nobleman, Lord of the Tree, Warden of the Wood Gate
Glorfindel, Noldo/Vanya nobleman, Lord of the Golden Flower, Warden of the Gold Gate
Gwaiforn, An�ri�'s first horse
Gwainar, Glorfindel's horse and Gwaiforn's sire
Gwilwileth, Noldo noblewoman, Galdor's daughter, died on Tumladen
Hendor, Noldo Elf, Idril's man
Idril, Noldo/Vanya noblewoman, Turgon's daughter and Lady of the Wing
Iveril, Noldo/Teleri noblewoman, Salgant's daughter and Egaith's wife
Lalaith, Noldo noblewoman, Ecthelion's cousin and Egalmoth's wife
Lasgow, Noldo soldier, captain of Ecthelion's guard
Maeglin, Noldo nobleman, Aredhel's son and Lord of the Mole
Manw�, King of the Valar, Vala of the Winds, brother to Melkor
Melkor / Morgoth, exiled Vala, the Dark Lord, brother to Manw�
Nessa, one of the Valar, wife of Tulkas
Nienna, the Vali� of Sorrow
Orom�, the Huntsman of the Valar
Penlod, Noldo nobleman, Lord of the Pillar of Snow, Warden of the Stone Gate
Rog, Noldo nobleman, Lord of the Hammer of Wrath, Warden of the Iron Gate
Salgant, Noldo nobleman, Lord of the Harp, Warden of the Silver Gate
Tinnuwen, Noldo noblewoman, Rog's sister and Duilin's wife
Tulkas, the Vala of War
Tuor, Edain, Huor's son and Lord of the Wing
Turgon, Noldo nobleman, son of Fingolfin, Lord of Gondolin and King of the Exiles
Ulmo, one of the Valar, Lord of the Waters
Varda, Queen of the Valar, Vali� of the Stars
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