Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Eternal	By : trekqueen Category: +First Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 7375 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 55
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Disclaimer: I do not own anything but my own characters, everything belongs to Tolkien the genius and I make nothing monetarily off of my fanfiction.

Author’s Notes: This chapter, like the last one, has been in a state of work in progress for a while but I finally am able to make the time to move it along. Thanks again to those who have stuck it out – this VERY lengthy chapter is to make up for my incredibly long absence.
Chapter Fifty-Six: Túrelíro
Glorfindel could feel the impending arrival of the sun rising over the mountains. The sky had grown to a moderate gray on the heels of the dark twilight while a faint light grew on the very edge of the horizon. The air had grown still and chilled in those moments, the world momentarily holding its breath at the return of the sun.

The upcoming patrol that day along the mountain passes would last another two weeks for Glorfindel and then he would leave to return to Elrilya’s side at their home. Winter had finally loosened its hold on Gondolin and its valley while the underlying scents of spring mustered strength to come forth. Once the warmer days of spring and summer merged, would Glorfindel finally hold his child in his arms.

Having taken his usual duty among the guard protecting Gondolin’s borders, Glorfindel had been gone from his beloved for much of the winter. He had never felt the separation from Elrilya as deeply as he did currently. Glorfindel knew the importance of assisting patrols with his fellow soldiers on the edge of the valley, as well as his duty being a captain of Gondolin, but this time he longed more than anything to hold Elrilya against him and to place his palm over her quickening belly.

Joys had been had for the last season: seeing Elrilya’s body swell with the impending babe, Glorfindel feeling the first movements of life beneath his hand, and the reactions of the child upon hearing his sire’s voice. Though, the changes had not been without its difficulties such as Elrilya and even Glorfindel had not quite expected. Elrilya’s appetite had changed as well as her moods from time to time, not to mention her altering body physique. In the end, the positive result to come would outweigh anything that troubled them at present.

They were reminded of this excitement each time they visited Híthtán, Thálgwen and Istuidír’s son. He had grown already to be a strong child and constantly held his parents’, even his sister’s, hearts in his thrall. Elrilya had previously been friends with Thálgwen but they had grown closer over the bond they now shared with children. The hopes and futures of the new lives being born in Gondolin were things the people clutched to tightly to ward off any despair that lingered over the threat of Morgoth.

“Your thoughts linger elsewhere,” Ecthelion said, having approached quietly.

“Of course,” Glorfindel replied with a smile. “Now I see how many others among our troops have felt waiting on such occasions while we watched curiously from afar at such behavior.”

The dark-haired elf’s hand landed heavily on Glorfindel’s shoulder and squeezed it tightly.

“I may never understand it as you are this day, yet, you wear your bliss so openly that all bask in its glow,” Ecthelion grinned.

“I believe it is Elrilya who is the one glowing more with each passing day,” Glorfindel said as he turned to face his friend. “And do not dwell on the thoughts that you may never receive such a gift that I will have, I am certain you will one day.”

Ecthelion’s smile faltered a little but he swiftly hid the sadness that had crept into his eyes, which had not quite disappeared over the years since Aredhel’s death.

“Come, the others are ready to take to the Echoriath,” Ecthelion changed the subject as he stepped away.

Glorfindel followed his friend with a sigh while climbing down from the shelf he had been perched upon overlooking the valley. He walked along the narrow passage to the inner caves near the final gate and came to his complement of soldiers preparing for the ride into the mountains surrounding Gondolin’s valley. The various troop battalions took rotations on that patrol as it was long and arduous, not to mention one of the most dangerous. There were no trails at those heights, only natural passes, and the elves created none for fear that the enemy may discover them. This made the journeys through the region difficult by foot and most areas one was not able to take a horse as many treacherous cliffs and perilous drops plagued the way. Other threats were of the monstrous variety: many of the Dark Lord’s vile creatures had attempted to cross the mountains as of late, more so than had been typical. King Turgon and his advisers could only assume that Morgoth was pushing further than he ever had before in his search for the hidden city.
“Light will be upon us soon; thus, we should make way best we can beyond the mountain peaks and to the tree line on the other side of the ridge before darkness falls this evening,” Glorfindel addressed his soldiers from a ledge above them. “We will make camp there for the night before breaking into smaller groups for the daytime watch. What activity we see, if any, will determine how we decide to continue our movements for the next several days. Pack lightly, but be certain to bring what is needed for the cold mountains lest we be caught by the unexpected.”
Heads nodded in understanding and Glorfindel stepped off the rockface to help gather provisions. They would need cloaks and furs to ward off the chill that still clung to the high mountains, along with the weaponry needed for protection and attacks, but only minimal amounts of food would be taken. They would need to hunt for game once they found a suitable place to rest in the cover of the forest that lined the westward facing mountains. Fires would need to be kept to a minimum as to not draw attention to their position if the wicked monsters were nearby.
Once all were equipped, Glorfindel led them along the cave pathways to a tunnel opening that would take them to the starting point of their journey. Ecthelion took up the rear guard in case anyone struggled or fell behind, but also to confirm their passage left no tell-tale track. Most among them were seasoned warriors who had previous experiences on patrols and had fought in the wars against the Dark Lord, but a few relatively new souls had joined the ranks in the last few years once they had come of age. They had not yet had the chance to truly see how terrible battle could be for them.
The sun rose in the sky but the warmth struggled to reach them the higher they climbed the mountain. Tendrils of fog and puffs of cloud hid precipices along their route and often the pace slowed to inching along dunes of snow, making them blind to a possible danger ahead. By midday, most of the lasting clouds had dissipated and Glorfindel’s troop had reached the peak.
Breaking for a short rest, the elves sat upon rocks that jutted out of the snow or they leaned against walls of exposed granite as to avoid the wet snow that still gleamed in the sunlight. The downhill trek would be swifter for them and Glorfindel knew they would easily reach the trees by nightfall. He gave himself a moment himself to take in the view: Turgon’s tower, the highest in the city, rose up through the lower clouds and sparkled in the sunlight while the bustling city was hidden below from his sight.
Glorfindel’s thoughts again returned to Elrilya and their child, he wondered at the way he always had them on his mind. Of course, Elrilya would cross his thoughts before but now with the new child it seemed constantly on his mind that he would become distracted by it. What would he look like? What name from those they had discussed would fit him and his personality? Will the birth go well for Elrilya? Would everything be ready for him in time? Did they have enough clothing? Would he be strong?
“My lord!”
Glorfindel practically fell over as one of the sentries from the group shook him by the arm roughly. Apparently he had been attempting to gather his attention for quite some time. The alarm on the elf’s face caused the golden-haired elf to rise to his feet quickly.
“What is it?”
“We spotted one of the scouts from the disbanding patrol running along the tree line and heading towards the gates.”
Glorfindel pressed his lips together in concern; he had wondered why they had not yet passed by or heard from the other patrol that would be finishing their rounds as theirs approached. It was not unheard of to not come in direct contact with them right away, some overlap had occurred in the past but sending out the scout ahead on the way back to base camp was uncommon.
“Send someone down to meet him,” Glorfindel ordered and saw Ecthelion catch his eye from across the clearing. “We will follow.”
Ecthelion gave the command to get everyone’s attention and all swiftly gathered their weapons and shields. Their scout had already sprinted ahead to meet his counterpart, going as fast as the mountainside would let him safely travel. Glorfindel was not certain if the other scout had seen his troop yet and whether he may be taking another route away from their location. In the meantime, they would need to find a path for them all to safely descend.
Leading the charge down the craggy outcroppings and slippery pockets of snow, Glorfindel carefully tested the outcroppings and footholds. The scouts could take easier paths but those ways may not hold up to many feet, even under the swift, light steps of the Eldar. Winding their way lower after a half-hour, they had reached the edge of the snow line. As Ecthelion ushered the final soldiers down, Glorfindel heard a whistle upon the air. Moments later, both his and the other patrol’s scouts sprinted around a rock wall to meet them.
“My lord,” the new arrival addressed Glorfindel. “My commander sent me out to find you for relief; they were waylaid by a sudden enemy approach. It is not far, I can lead you all there.”
With a nod, Glorfindel concurred and motioned for all to follow closely. He felt his soldiers around him, their awareness heightened at the anxiousness of an upcoming conflict with the enemy. As he kept his eyes trained on the scout ahead of him, Glorfindel felt troubled by the fact the others had been trapped by a surprise. It was unusual at the very least, for the Eldar to be caught unaware at all and it concerned him greatly if the enemy was changing tactics in order to penetrate deeper into the wilderness that had protected Gondolin so far.
The sounds of battle rang through the forest from the clashing of swords and the shouts of heated voices echoed through the bare branches. Glorfindel signaled for his soldiers to move outward and make a flank for their approach to a nearby clearing. He realized where they had come, it was not the first time he had traveled the route. A narrow, naturally created trail from the tree growth and the passage of game and other wild creatures through the woods entered an area void of trees populated only by small bushes and rocks. Seasonal ponds sometimes appeared there from rain and snow runoff, a place where many would pause to quench thirst.
Finally they entered the fray and Glorfindel saw the patrol had been greatly outnumbered but had dealt a significant blow to the orc forces; however, the onslaught had exhausted many already. Thankfully, none appeared to have been killed in the skirmish; although, many were injured and struggling to stay standing against the blows of their opponents.
Glorfindel brought his sword down upon the nearest monster as he rushed into the scene, giving his comrade the chance to make the fatal thrust with his spear into the abdomen of the creature. Assailing the evil horde, Glorfindel’s regiment drove the orcs backward but the creatures had nowhere to go. The remaining fiends fled from the Eldar but were followed closely so that they would be dispatched to their deaths quickly before spreading word of what had befallen them.
Walking over the fallen bodies, Glorfindel made his way to Celeirhŷn, the commander of the patrol and an elf high in rank from the House of the Pillar of Lord Penlod. He was injured, but not terribly, and one of his companions was applying a bandage to Celeirhŷn’s forearm.
“My lord,” Celeirhŷn inclined his head to Glorfindel. “My thanks for your swift strength.”
“I am gladdened we were not far from you that our aid came quickest,” Glorfindel replied, seeing Ecthelion approach to his side to hear the report.
“Very much so,” Celeirhŷn agreed and stood to motion to a nearby incline amongst the trees. “The beasts came from the higher ground, rather than the usual ways, and drew upon us as we collected water.”
“They have not come so close before to the borders,” Ecthelion pondered and took a quick glance of the clearing. “And far greater numbers than we have seen in past years.”
“Indeed, my lord,” the silver-haired elf nodded. “We have slain four other groups of large number in the last three weeks. It has not been quiet in the mountains and the decline of winter appears to be encouraging them to press further. A week ago we found tracks of a regiment twice that of what you see of these orcs; however, a storm came unexpectedly and swept all trace of their course.”
“Could it have been an amassing of this group and another you destroyed?” Glorfindel asked.
“Nay, the scouts confirm they were fresh and not of the same monsters we had killed in days past,” Celeirhŷn shook his head. “There may be others still in the peaks.”
Ecthelion looked to Glorfindel in concern, his lips a thin line of thought.
“Ask those of your patrol who have not been injured to join ours,” Glorfindel commanded. “I would seek to have greater advantage over such a force that we are to find.”
“You need not ask, my lord,” Celeirhŷn smiled. “For they will follow you gladly to destroy them for the safety of the City. I, too, will join.”
“Your injury is of no bother?” Ecthelion asked.
“It is merely a scratch,” he said, stretching out his limb. “I will gather those who will return and have my scout take them ahead on your cleared, safe passage back to the gates.”
Glorfindel nodded as Celeirhŷn walked away to tend to his troops. Ecthelion moved closer so that their words would only be shared between them and not overheard.
“We must make haste if we are to find them by nightfall.”
“We must rest first, his men are in no position to march across snow and rock,” the golden-haired elf contemplated. “We will take to the forest for but a while until we come to a nearby dale that will afford us protection from the night winds. There we may make camp. Have the archers seek out game for eating by nightfall. At dawn, we will rise and seek out the vanishing host.”
********
A week had passed and Glorfindel’s strengthened patrol had yet to discover the mysterious pack of monsters traversing the Crissaegrim. Tracks had been found again but proved difficult to follow due to the ever-changing weather moving towards spring. There had been orc stragglers who must have fallen behind in the night hours, which helped the elves continue onward but ever out of reach of their foes.
The feeling of trouble prickled at the back of Glorfindel’s thoughts in the last day of their travels, as if something was not quite right, but he could not seem to determine the source of the nuance. Similar concerns at not finding the orcs had strained the resolve a little of the others but Glorfindel did not let on about the strange feeling plaguing him. Having both Ecthelion and Celeirhŷn helped in keeping cohesion; however, if the fiends were not found soon, Glorfindel knew that rifts would form among them in the less-experienced warriors.
After a long morning march taking the patrol further to the north than was typical of their paths, Glorfindel had them have a respite. While the others rested, Ecthelion approached Glorfindel and took him aside.
“I spoke with Celeirhŷn first. If we three were seen together, it may make the others question our resolve and leadership,” the dark-haired elf spoke in hushed tones. “The younger ellyn are anxious, their hands grip hilts and bows fretfully.”
“That I have seen as well,” Glorfindel nodded. “I am hoping the scouts will return to us soonest with more news.”
“Could it be possible they lost the trail and we have been chasing ghosts of long past monsters?” Ecthelion asked. “Those we track may have already returned to whence they came.”
“Nay,” the golden-haired elf replied. “The Dark Lord is growing impatient and must know that many of his foot soldiers have not returned from these mountains, he will not let any come back lacking reports. I believe he knows Gondolin is here… yet not quite where specifically.”
At that moment, one of the scouts of Celeirhŷn’s original patrol came rushing into their midst. Celeirhŷn had seen him approach and motioned for him to gather with the two elf-lords already speaking.
“What news have you?” Celeirhŷn asked.
“The horde I tracked weeks before, I spied their passage the next ridge over,” the scout said quickly, attempting to catch his breath as it appeared he had come promptly upon spotting his quarry.
“You are certain it is the same?” Glorfindel asked.
“Aye, my lord,” he nodded. “I recognized many of the same signs I had seen before. I saw the fiends myself this time. They make slow progress through a small chasm where there would be no escape up the walls of the mountain, only back from where they came or to where they already head.”
Glorfindel smiled gladly at the soldier and squeezed his shoulder in congratulations. The golden-haired elf could see excitement and eagerness in his companion’s eyes, it was a weight off his shoulders as well that their foes were finally discovered. This was an opportunity they could not let slip away. Turning back to the troops, Glorfindel alighted upon a nearby rock and brought their attention to him.
“Our enemy has been found, we will make haste to where they are,” he announced. “However, proceed with caution. We shall surround them from entry and exit of the nearby gorge, before they realize their folly. They will become more deadly like a wild animal in a trap, more so than you have seen previously. Do not let yourself fall into danger out of bloodlust. I know we all have been restless in this pursuit, but keep level heads and we shall prevail.”
Heads nodded with understanding and a few elves raised their weapons into the air with words of victory, but they kept their voices low as to not let the winds betray them with their battle cries. Glorfindel ordered the archers of both patrols to take to the high ground of the ridge that overlooked the chasm; they would provide their friends with cover while Celeirhŷn would confront the orcs directly in their path. Glorfindel and Ecthelion would approach from the rear, where much more of the chaos and panic of the monsters would take place once they realized their predicament. With words of glory and victory, the two lords bid farewell to Celeirhŷn as they departed.
They made fast to their positioning, but once the pathway twisted downhill, it became difficult. The gorge was usually fed by a seasonal creek in the summer; however, it was only hard mud and ice with the ending winter. The walls of the ridges on either side quickly rose high above them, cutting off the chilling winds but also depriving them of the afternoon light. Outcroppings along the rock face would give needed cover for the archers and the shadows would hide their arrival. The gorge itself gave way very little: only a dozen elves could walk abreast. Although the terrain had been flattened by the marching orcs, it still required careful footfalls.
Glorfindel wondered at the choice of pathway the orcs took. It certainly was not an effortless march and also made the monsters vulnerable in position. Perhaps they were searching for lower elevation and resources to fuel their travels? Thinking to himself of where they were in the mountains, Glorfindel realized that if their foes would continue on far enough, they would enter a hidden plateau that would give a slight view of Turgon’s Tower, the highest spire in the city. They had come that close to giving away the city’s secreted location.
Suddenly, grunts and roars echoed off the hillsides and thundering footsteps grew louder. The elven soldiers stood at the ready as soon as they heard the warnings and within moments, the first terrible, contorted faces raced around a curve in the gorge. Glorfindel let out a call and spearmen stood at the front line with pointed metal forward. Other spearmen behind him let loose of their staffs and impaled several approaching creatures. The swordsmen drew their blades and waited as the first group of creatures was killed by those at the lead, then the elf-spearmen were replaced by passing through the gaps between. The axe-wielders and mace men followed close behind the swordsmen, following the same movements as the spearmen before, killing the next onslaught.
“Where are the archers?!” Ecthelion yelled to Glorfindel over the clash of metal as they awaited their turn to press through the reeking mass of orc bodies and blood.
Glorfindel scanned the ridge above them but saw no movement or sign of the archers.
“Waylaid perhaps,” he replied. “We will have to do without them.”
Ecthelion nodded and led forth his spearmen. Once they made their kills, Glorfindel moved forward his swordsmen and realized they had but a few fiends left. After a moment, the creatures were no more and the elves were left standing amidst the carnage. Celeirhŷn’s battalion was nowhere to be found.
“They were too few,” Ecthelion said, looking back the way they had come at the slain bodies.
Glorfindel shook his head, “They knew we were coming somehow. It was another ambush like before. Mayhap that is why the archers are not here. The larger contingent is further on.”
“And we were kept from assisting,” Ecthelion grimaced with realization and turned to the others. “Take to arms! We move onward again!”
“Set to formation again,” Glorfindel continued the orders.
They marched hurriedly through the muck of the riverbed and after nearly a half-hour, they finally could hear the sound of battle ahead. As they passed another bend in the rocks, they came upon the true rearguard of the orcs. The archers still were absent and Celeirhŷn’s warriors were holding their places, but at a cost of many injured.
As they had before, Glorfindel and Ecthelion’s soldiers swept upon the mass of creatures, killing whatever they could with expert precision. The pressures on Celeirhŷn lessened as the chaos they had hoped for finally erupted. The animals lost all control and discipline as they lashed out at the elves blindly and foolishly. Nearly half had been killed when arrows at last rained from above. Looking to the sky, Glorfindel saw the archers take cover as they let their bows sing. Eventually, the last fiend was run through and laid still upon the cold ground.
The elves let out a great cheer at their accomplishment and gathered together to greet their fellows at the center. The archers above joined the chorus and eventually quietly retreated behind the ridge again to return to their companions below.
“It was good to have finally met you at this place, my lords,” Celeirhŷn smiled as he came up to Ecthelion and Glorfindel. “What kept you for so long?”
“There was a smaller division that must have stayed behind to ambush us and give the larger group better advantage and protection,” Ecthelion sighed.
“The same with the archers,” Celeirhŷn nodded. “One of the archers was sent to me to give word that they were kept from us by more orcs.”
“Such tactics have not been seen in them before,” Glorfindel said. “It explains their ability to elude us for so long.”
“Just in time at that,” Ecthelion replied, looking toward the south and Gondolin. “Let’s see to the injured and disposing of these bodies. I do not want to linger long here to be caught as these monsters were in a trap.”
There were no fatal blows dealt to the elves but some injuries were inflicted, mostly upon Celeirhŷn’s side as they had faced the worst of it. Those who were unharmed collected the bodies in piles and set fire to them. Others fell back to do the same where Glorfindel and Ecthelion’s troop had fought. Celeirhŷn took to meet with the archers on the ridge and gather more details about their situation.
“Lord Glorfindel, someone approaches!”
Glorfindel paused in his duties as he heard his name. Ecthelion had already taken to the highest perch nearest to them, a boulder long ago left by a landslide. He peered at the lone figure jogging down the chasm to meet them.
“I believe it is Tuor,” Ecthelion said in surprise, his brow furrowed. “What brings him out to us?”
As Ecthelion spoke, Glorfindel had a sinking feeling drop from within him. The strange itch at the back of his mind was still present; however, he had paid it little heed until that moment since he had been preoccupied with the clash and aftermath. Tuor looked relieved to have found him as Glorfindel ran hastily up to meet him.
“My Lord,” Tuor greeted him. “You must come with me straight away.”
“What is the matter? What news have you?” Glorfindel questioned him.
“The babe… he comes soonest,” he explained between short breaths. “The midwives and healers are at your lady’s side, but are uncertain if they will stop his early arrival.”
“Did something happen to Elrilya? It is too soon for our child to come into the world,” Glorfindel asked, his heart was beating so hard that it felt as if it would burst through his chest.
“I do not know,” Tuor answered, taking a swift drink from his water skin. “I have been searching for three days trying to track your patrol. Others were sent ahead of me and found no trace of where you traveled.”
“You must go,” Ecthelion insisted as he came up beside Glorfindel. “We do not require you here, she needs you most of all.”
Facing his friend, Glorfindel knew he betrayed his feelings and worry openly. He had been strong the last week among his men by keeping his concerns hidden. When it came to Elrilya, however, he knew he could not keep himself contained any longer. Ecthelion, too, had urgency in his look and the sadness of losing Aredhel lingered still. Glorfindel nodded slowly and his dark-haired friend clasped him tightly for a moment.
“Fly to her and see them both to health,” Ecthelion whispered to him. “Go.”
Not turning back or seeing to his warriors, Glorfindel focused on Tuor as he led him onward. The hidden plateau that Glorfindel had taken note of earlier that day was the best path for him and Tuor to take. It would be a treacherous climb down the cliff-face to the valley floor, yet it was the most direct and quickest way for two individuals to go. Tuor knew the way and neither spoke to one another, nor needed to, as they both understood the importance of the moment.
Glorfindel felt like he was standing still as time moved past him and the wilderness around him turned into a blur. The whipping wind cutting at his face no longer stung and the cold chill seeping through his torn clothing did not freeze him. The only thing that remained in his mind was an image of Elrilya and their child.
Darkness had descended fully when Glorfindel and Tuor reached the cliff at the edge of the plateau. It would be dangerous in full day, but much worse after nightfall. Still, it was their only choice as the way to the gates would have taken them well into the morning the next day while they still could be stopped by unpredictable weather blocking passages through the mountains. Glorfindel went first, knowing his heightened senses and abilities would allow him to find a careful route that Tuor could follow. The man was exceptional among his kind, but still an elf would exceed him in such a situation.
Glorfindel tried to focus and keep a steady pace without hastening recklessly. Tuor needed him to stay close and level-headed so they both could reach the valley floor unscathed. One moment when Glorfindel let his mind wander, he felt loose rocks give way under one foothold and he braced himself against the rocks. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, willing himself to slow down and let wane the fear starting to grip him. Tuor sensed the hesitation and paused, catching his elven companion’s gaze once Glorfindel opened his eyes. He gave a short nod of understanding and support to Glorfindel before they both again continued their descent.
After what seemed like an eternity, the stable ground of the low foothills at the north of Gondolin’s valley was beneath their feet. In the dark, Gondolin’s lights sparkled a little in the distance. It was still too early for the morning shopkeepers, bakers, and farmers but also long past the time for late night revelers. The air was quiet since the winds had subsided upon their climb down; it gave an eerie calm to their urgent mission and the disquiet in Glorfindel’s mind.
Sprinting to full speed, Glorfindel and Tuor took to the valley roads through the outlying farms and grazing lands. The stars were bright above them and Isil, nearly full, lit their path as they passed by darkened cottages and hamlets for those who lived outside the city. Occasionally, a horse or cow would peer at them in the dark as they raced by but no other noted the two runners. Tuor kept up close behind Glorfindel, the elf knew his friend must be exhausted from searching the mountains for days and now running through the whole night. However, he had indeed lived among the elf-kind for a long time and had a life alone in the wilderness for many years, not to mention Huor was also his sire. If anything, Tuor could hold his own with many an elf and Glorfindel’s heart swelled with the love he had held for the young man’s kin and for the loyalty Tuor showed for him that night.
Gondolin’s outer walls grew tall in front of them and Glorfindel slowed as they approached the main entry. The guards at duty that night called out to their companions to open the large, wooden gate once they recognized Tuor had returned. Glorfindel realized they had been told to keep watch for their arrival as they were let within. They saluted him and murmured proper greetings for the lord as Glorfindel passed through and he tilted his head in thanks to them.
Traversing the streets and avenues of Gondolin was nothing compared to the journey they had taken earlier that evening and night. In but a few minutes, they had arrived at Glorfindel’s home. Many lights were on within but the soft flickering of candles were all that Glorfindel could see emanating from the windows of the upper level. He entered without pause and found in his front room several healers, associates of Elrilya’s, and the midwives they had been consulting with for the last several months.
“Thank the Valar!” sighed Thálgwen, who was also present. “We had begun to worry when the search parties had not found you.”
“How is she?” Glorfindel queried, finding his voice strange as he had hardly spoken since leaving Ecthelion in the mountains.
“Elrilya rests now,” Tasariel said, the lead midwife took Glorfindel’s hands in hers. “She has had the pains of birthing for a week, but they worsened in the last few days. The healers have given her herbs to cease the child’s progress and to help her sleep.”
“And our babe…?” he felt his throat tighten.
Tasariel nodded with a sage but tired smile, “Still stirs within her. However, Elrilya may yet have an early delivery. The remedies we have given do not always last, but may give her more time.”
Glorfindel sighed, “Is there anything else you can do for her?”
“Nay, rest is what she needs for now,” the midwife answered. “It is not wholly unheard of for a babe to come a month too soon, I have overseen births as such before. One of my apprentices will stay with you until the time comes and will send for me.”
“How is it that I did not know her plight?” he asked, not necessarily of his visitors but to himself as well. “We feel our bond so strongly.”
“When the pains of labor come upon ellith, the bonds with mates are often dulled,” Tasariel explained. “Do not lay blame on yourself. You are here now.”
“I will see her, but I not disturb her slumber,” Glorfindel replied, feeling much of the agony that had been plaguing him finally fall away. “Thank you, all of you.”
Climbing the stairs to the next level of his home, Glorfindel felt the weight of the last two weeks finally take their toll. Exhaustion began to weave through his mind but he held on for a little while longer. The bedroom door had been left open a crack and he quietly pushed it aside. In the dimness, he saw the slight shimmer of Idril’s golden hair in the candlelight. She had pulled one of the chaise lounges beside the bed and rested her head upon the raised curve while one pale hand gently held Elrilya’s.
Looking to his wife, Glorfindel studied Elrilya dozing silently but her brow was furrowed with a slight disturbance. She lay on her side, facing Idril, with her free hand and arm cradling her abdomen where his child still waited. Wisps of loose hair clung to her neck and the sides of Elrilya’s face, dampened from earlier exertions. Beads of sweat still dotted her temples and her breath came shallowly.
“You came,” Idril whispered, her face showing similar relief as the others downstairs.
“I always will when she needs me,” he answered, managing a smile for her as she hugged him. “You are a true friend to us, by being here with her when I could not.”
“As she would for me any day,” Idril said, tears in her eyes. “Please, Glorfindel, take time for yourself to rest, too, while she sleeps. She will be gladdened to see you when she awakens.”
“Very well,” he resigned. “I may look quite the fright for you from my patrol.”
“A little,” she teased. “Now go, I will stay with her until you return.”
Dragging his feet, Glorfindel stumbled toward his bath chamber and took to removing his cloak and armor. He struggled, finding it heavy even for him now that he had let himself relax after clamoring home. Suddenly, Tuor entered the room with a wash basin filled with hot water, which he placed on a shelf then he helped Glorfindel to a nearby chair. The golden-haired elf let his friend assist him as the man began to unclasp the shielding Glorfindel wore.
“I am truly an elf rich with the wealth of friends this night,” he said to Tuor. “I do not know how I can show enough gratitude to you and the others.”
“You do not need to do so,” Tuor replied, meeting Glorfindel’s gaze as he helped remove his breastplate. “You and your lady are like kin to me, fostering and teaching my sire and uncle when they were young, and now making me welcome among elf-kind and in your home. I could not ask for more, for I am truly blessed by the Valar to be counted as friend.”
Tuor was not always a man of many words in most conversations, but his short soliloquy touched Glorfindel deeply and again the elf wondered about his friend who had journeyed by his side through the night.
“We are forever honored to have you among us,” Glorfindel said, squeezing Tuor’s shoulder.
“That gladdens me. Many have said such to me and even the Lady Idril has spoken of hearing the same words from the King,” Tuor said as he continued on his task. “I was not always certain he believed as such since he does not yet followed the counsel I was tasked to bring to him. However, he treats me still with great respect.”
“Turgon does remind himself of Ulmo’s warning and what must be done,” Glorfindel replied. “I remember when he left the helm behind at the behest of the Vala, that which you brought back to us. However, I do not know if he is prepared to leave this fair valley and city.”
“I hope he heeds Lord Ulmo, there is a purpose to his words,” Tuor said. “I have learned in my life that we must hold true in knowing the grace and love of the Valar will protect us from the Dark Lord, but we must do more than just listen to their words.”
“You have thought much on this,” Glorfindel determined, pulling off his boots and tossing them aside.
“Aye, oft the talks I have with the King concern it,” Tuor shrugged. “The Lady Idril and I have spoken in depth as well; he at times will take her guidance above all others.”
Glorfindel managed to quirk a smile, “You speak much of the princess. In the last month, you have mentioned her oft as well.”
Tuor hesitantly returned a grin but tried to hide the slight blush spreading on his face.
“She always has an open ear and a kind heart, while strong of will. I believe she may even surpass her sire in that,” Tuor said with affection. “She has not left Elrilya’s side since her troubles began.”
“They are even closer than true sisters bound by bloodline,” Glorfindel nodded.
“Indeed. When Lady Thálgwen’s husband and the others of your House who searched for you had returned with no news, Lady Idril pleaded that I find you,” Tuor explained. “She has never asked anything of me until then. How could I deny her selfless request? I fear if I had not gone, she herself would have taken flight to find you!”
Glorfindel chuckled, “That she would, I believe.”
Quiet took hold in the room again and once the armor was all removed, Tuor took the pieces away and left Glorfindel to his task. Finding a nearby towel and soap, Glorfindel washed himself clean of the grime he wore from over a week’s patrol. It was not a thorough cleaning, but he was too tired to do more at the moment. He fetched from the nearby drawers a clean pair of leggings and a shift that afforded more comfort.
On his way back to his bedroom, Glorfindel paused in the antechamber. Tuor was at the doorway as if to leave and Idril stood by. He held one of her hands gently between both of his, bringing it to his lips and placing a kiss to her fingers. She leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes in the reprieve as he softly held her. He whispered words of encouragement to her, a smile so tender reserved only for her, and she nodded in response to his support as she raised her head to face him.
Tuor left the room, giving Idril one last glance, as she watched him go. Glorfindel decided to let his presence be known and Idril turned with a start upon seeing him.
“Do you feel better?” she asked.
“Much so,” Glorfindel replied. “You seem to be as well.”
Idril blushed slightly but a small smile piqued at the edges of her lips.
“One could say so,” she answered, not quite acknowledging nor denying his implication.
“He speaks highly of you and your sire,” Glorfindel replied. “Though, he still wonders about his fate among us and his acceptance.”
“Ada’s listened and he calls him elf-friend,” Idril responded matter-of-factly. “If he is or ever will be more than that, I know not the King’s heart in that. Only of mine am I certain.”
With a slight nod of understanding, Glorfindel saw through to the meaning of her words but let it be left at that.
“If you wish to remain, we have the spare room down the hallway,” he offered. “It may be quieter than returning to the palace.”
“Thank you,” Idril accepted. “I wish to remain close if she needs me still.”
“Sleep well then while she does, I will do the same,” Glorfindel said as she departed.
Leaving the door open but a little, Glorfindel returned to Elrilya’s bedside. She continued to sleep deeply but still with a troubled face, and she had turned to her other side to face the center of the bed. Crawling carefully onto the mattress beside her, Glorfindel settled beside her and laid a palm over her rounded belly. Just as he felt the darkness of sleep creeping over him, a reassuring poke against his palm let him know all was well.
******
The fogginess of slumber began to melt away and Glorfindel felt a gentle caress on his face. He focused his eyes and found Elrilya watching him lovingly, her blue eyes deep in thought but also looking weary, while her hand brushed aside loose strands of hair from Glorfindel’s cheek.
“Good evening,” she greeted.
He sat up from the pillows with a start, “Evening?!”
“Aye, you slept the day away,” she chuckled. “I awoke around midday but I did not wish to disturb you.”
“And you have sat here all afternoon staring at me?” he looked at her incredulously.
She laughed a little, “Nay, Idril came and assisted me with a short trip to the bathing chamber. We shared a small meal on the sofa.”
“All this while I lay prone across the room,” he said sourly; though, he knew she meant it in jest.
“She told me of your crossing the mountains and backwoods to get here quickly,” Elrilya said, taking his hand. “They did not tell me of the trouble to reach you; they did not want to make me fret. However, I knew how long it had been and still you were not here.”
“They did as they should,” he confirmed. “Tuor managed to track our passage beyond the usual patrols.”
“She does not know I saw her ask him,” Elrilya confessed. “I had been somewhat delirious from the pain, but I saw her beyond the door in the hallway when she spoke to him. He would do anything for her, even if it meant going to the edges of this land and beyond… he would not have rested until he found you.”
Glorfindel let a small smile to his lips and kissed Elrilya’s forehead, “He did it out of his love for you, too….. but aye, she holds much sway over him.”
“Think you Turgon would ever approve?” she asked the unspoken question that they both knew had to have been troubling Idril and Tuor.
“Mayhap,” Glorfindel contemplated. “He is truly tolerant of much but he may balk when it comes to his daughter.”
“Yet, he knows when Idril has made up her mind then he can do little to change it,” Elrilya said.
He knew she was right but he paused in voicing his next thought when he saw Elrilya’s face change suddenly.
“What is the matter?” he asked.
“Send for Tasariel,” she said calmly but there was urgency to her tone. “The child comes now.”
Not waiting to ask what had changed to make Elrilya to call for the midwife, Glorfindel swiftly went to the doorway and to the stairs. Idril was below in the parlor with the midwife’s assistant, Vilyomë, and they both started as Glorfindel appeared.
“Elrilya says Tasariel must come now,” he explained to them.
“I will fetch her,” Idril said and rose to her feet immediately.
Vilyomë followed Glorfindel back up the stairs and into the bedroom. She went to Elrilya’s side and placed her palm upon Elrilya’s abdomen then pulled aside a sheet that had been beneath Elrilya on the bed.
“My lord, could you please help while I prepare the birth bedding?” Vilyomë asked.
“Of course,” Glorfindel agreed and came to Elrilya as she held to him fast while rising to her feet. “Do you not wish to sit?”
“Nay,” Elrilya shook her head, her voice trembling slightly as she tried long, deep breaths. “It helps the child to progress further and to assist the pains while standing and moving a little.”
Deferring to her judgment and knowledge as a healer, Glorfindel supported Elrilya as she leaned upon him and swayed her body with each wave that vibrated through her. Vilyomë worked fast to remove the sheets and place padding where Elrilya would sit. She sat towels next to the fireplace to warm them and ordered one of the apprentices who had arrived to fetch hot water. Meanwhile, Elrilya clutched at his shirt and made low murmuring noises every few minutes. Going on instinct, but also at a loss of what to do, Glorfindel rubbed her back and softly sung a lullaby that he had not thought of in many years – one that his mother used to sing to him when he was a child in Valinor. It seemed to help Elrilya relax a little and he looked down upon her face, her eyes looked distant as if she were focused on an imaginary place.
After a little more than a quarter of an hour, Tasariel arrived and Idril followed close behind her. Vilyomë and Tasariel spoke together for a moment before she approached Glorfindel and Elrilya.
“I had hoped the babe would wait longer but her water was released,” she explained, knowing he understood at least that much of what she spoke. “I must check her to see her progress. Please, help her to the bed.”
Glorfindel carefully shuffled Elrilya back to the newly made bed and lowered her to her back. She did not complain but he could tell it was uncomfortable for her to be on her back. Tasariel pulled aside Elrilya’s skirt and Glorfindel grabbed a nearby damp washcloth to pat Elrilya’s forehead.
“Thankfully, the child had already turned downward before today. This will make it much easier for us all. Do you feel nausea lying in bed?” Tasariel asked her and Elrilya silently nodded. “I can see the child’s head now. He comes without hesitation. My lord, I do not ask this oft of husbands but under the circumstances, do you wish to remain here?”
“I will stay,” he said firmly and took up a place on the lounge that was still beside the bed, holding Elrilya’s hand.
Coming around to Elrilya’s other side, Idril crawled onto the bed and took Elrilya’s other hand. They raised Elrilya up with pillows behind her back and head while Vilyomë had the apprentice bring torches into the already darkening room as night fell again. Thálgwen had also appeared and took her place on one side of the midwife.
“Do you feel the need to push yet?” Tasariel asked Elrilya and the laboring elleth gave another nod in confirmation between her breaths. “Go ahead when you have the urge, start with small pulses first.”
Glorfindel felt Elrilya’s grip tighten on him and she tried to breathe through gritted teeth, a low moan escaping her throat as she tensed up.
“Relax,” Vilyomë encouraged Elrilya softly while she stood beside Tasariel. “No need to fight it, go with it. Your body knows what to do.”
Surrounded by the ellith, Glorfindel suddenly realized the sisterhood camaraderie that enveloped Elrilya with their comfort and presence. Somehow, it was not unlike being among his soldiers in battle or on patrol. Different, though, was this companionship of women in that it humbled him with the appreciation that they welcomed new life in this united bond they shared.
“Very good,” Tasariel told Elrilya as she tried another push. “He is almost here.”
With silent knowing, Thálgwen and Vilyomë raised Elrilya’s feet and let her use them for leverage. Glorfindel turned away and kept his gaze on his mate. He had been in many horrific battles and seen terrible scenes in his life, but the joyous birthing of children was something wholly different than he had anticipated. This time, when another urge overcame her, Elrilya pushed harder and longer than she had been doing with a louder groan. The two on either side of Tasariel stood resolute against the incredible strength that came with child-bearing, keeping Elrilya grounded.
“One more and I think we will have him shortly,” Tasariel smiled across to Glorfindel and Elrilya.
Meeting her hard grip, Glorfindel held fast to Elrilya as she bore down and drew out a long cry from within her. She fell back against the pillows and let her head fall back as she took deep breaths.
“I have his head free, that was the hard part,” Tasariel announced. “One more, Elrilya!”
Elrilya’s gaze looked up to Glorfindel and they locked in a stare, he could see the toll the last week had wrought upon her and how exhausted she seemed. He kissed her gently on her lips and squeezed her hand. Gathering herself up again, Elrilya found another ounce of energy and pushed again with the last of her might.
“I have him,” Tasariel said as she gathered a warm towel around the bundle she held.
A loud cry cut through the air, strong and bellowing like none Glorfindel had never heard. Tasariel reached over Elrilya and Idril unbuttoned part of her friend’s shift as the baby was placed upon her chest. The midwives rubbed the towel over the child to warm him but also clean him.
Glorfindel’s vision blurred as he looked down upon his son, the baby’s cries echoing off of the walls in the room like a battle shout. Elrilya already had tears streaming down her face as she beheld the tiny being in front of her that clutched with tiny hands to her bare skin. After a few minutes, he calmed to a low murmur of coos while squinting up at Elrilya’s face in wonder.
“I think I know what to name him,” Glorfindel smiled.
“What is that?” Elrilya asked.
“Túrelíro,” he said proudly.
Elrilya smiled tiredly, “It is perfect… Túrelíro Cormacolindonér.”
Glorfindel peered at his wife curiously but let it be for the moment, he would ask her at a later time about the Amilessë she had bestowed their son. For now, they would take delight in the healthy arrival of their child. Glorfindel laid his hand upon his son’s back, feeling the tiny body move beneath just as he had felt him when Túrelíro had been within Elrilya.
“Rest well, sweet son,” Glorfindel said. “There is much for you to see when you are ready.”

Glossary

Túrelíro – victory chant

Híthtán – mist maker (Sindarin)

Thálgwen – steady woman (Sindarin)

elleth/ellith – female elf/ves

ellon/ellyn – male elf/ves

Ada/Adar – father (Sindarin)

Amilessë – ‘mother name’ given after birthing foresight
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