Gondolin was said to be the last hope of the Eldar, and for the most part it seemed perfect. But as the kingdoms around it begin to fall to the might of Morgoth will Gondolin still stand.
The power of Gondolin relies upon the trust of all those wit...
Ahead of her Aredhel could see the clear waters that bordered Himlad from Dor Dinen. She staggered forward, holding her head where the rock had hit it. Seeing a guard stationed on the bridge she called out, her voice becoming fainter each time she cried. As the guard reached her she fell, only to be caught before she hit the ground.
"My Lady Irisse," he stammered, gently lowering her to the soft grass, "what are you doing in Himlad?"
"I seek Celegorm and Curufin," she whispered, drifting in and out of consciousness, "my friends of old." Then she went limp.
The guard stood, and, carrying her limp form he went back to his post were a few swift horses stayed at all times. As he placed Aredhel in the saddle, he told his fellow guards that he would take her to the dwelling of their lords.
When Aredhel awoke she felt the soft of a bed beneath her and the warmth of a blanket wrapped around her. Content for a moment she snuggled deeper into the cosy bed. Then, realising that this is not where she was last, she sat up gripping her head as it spun with dizziness.
"Lie back down, my lady," said a gentle and soothing voice from beside her, "you are not ready to get up yet."
She opened her eyes, the bright sunlight causing her to blink and squint. She looked around, she seemed to be in a fairly large bedroom. It was definitely elven, the winding decorations and elegant furniture showed that. Beside her bed sat a large jug of water upon a small wooden table, some of the clear liquid had been poured into a glass cup.
"Where am I," she mumbled, rubbing her head and looking up at the elven maid beside her.
"You are in the halls of Celegorm and Curufin," the maid answered, "you were hurt and exhausted. One of the guards on the bridge brought you here after you collapsed." Then all the memories of the past few days came flooding back to Aredhel.
"We were attacked," she started, sitting up slowly, "I was separated from my companions. Oh, my poor companions, I hope they are well. My horse bolted east as they were fighting, we managed to outrun the spiders, yet as I reached a bridge my horse spun and threw me on to the ground. After that I don't remember much until I awoke, I could hear the spiders moving near me so I ran across the bridge. I ran until I could run no more. When I saw the guards ahead I called out. The last thing I remember is the guard running over. He must have brought me here."
"Have some water, my lady," was all the maid said, offering her the glass. Aredhel took it with shaking hands, watching the water ripple with each quiver.
"Are the lords Celegorm and Curufin here?" she finally asked, hoping that she could see them again after such a long time. But when the maid answered Aredhel's hopes were extinguished, for the two sons of Feanor were away.
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Glorfindel wandered down the white streets of Gondolin, his head was bowed against the cold drizzle. He was heading to the training grounds, he planned to take some of his anger out on a straw dummy. As he rounded the corner he saw Ecthelion up ahead, talking with Rog.
The golden haired lord just ignored them, walking over to one of the dummies used for training. He drew his sword and began to practise, his sword flowing around him as if it was just an extension of his arm. Each time he hit it he used more force until eventually the straw dummy was reduced to just straw, shreds of material littered the area around him and the wooden pole that held the victim in place was sliced in two.
"I'm glad I'm not on the wrong side of you," Rog commented from behind him, walking over he placed a hand on Glorfindel's shoulder. "Ecthelion told me what happened. It wasn't your fault, we all know that once Aredhel gets something in her head she won't drop it, even if it's against the wishes of her brother and king." Then, offering Glorfindel a small smile, he left.
After clearing up the mess he had made from the dummy, Glorfindel sheathed his sword and left the training ground. The drizzle gradually progressed into rain, perfectly reflecting Glorfindel's mood as he walked back into his house, slamming the door closed behind him. He poured himself a glass of wine before settling down on his favourite comfy chair. A fire already roared in the hearth, its hungry flames licking the wood and crackling in delight.
A knock sounded at the door, causing Glorfindel to jolt in surprise. He jumped up and pulled the door open. On the doorstep stood a very dishevelled looking Ecthelion, his raven hair was plastered to his face because of the rain and his arms were crossed over his chest. Glorfindel had to stifle a laugh as he saw his friend stood there, looking pitiful in the rain.
"Well are you going to let me in or not?" Ecthelion said jokingly as he barged his way through the door.
"Well last time you came over you managed to find your own way in if I recall correctly," Glorfindel chuckled, remembering the morning that they were to leave with Aredhel. "You still owe me a new pot." He added, glancing over at the now empty table by the window. Ecthelion chuckled, but the laugh did not reach his eyes and the amusement quickly fled his face.
"How have you been?" the dark haired elf asked, his voice low.
"As well as can be expected," Glorfindel replied, a serious expression spreading over his face. "How about you?" Ecthelion answered that he had been about the same.
"It's hard to come back and find that nothing has really changed," Ecthelion said, swirling the wine that Glorfindel had given him around, "The hidden city is so at peace, yet my mind is at war. I cannot help but think about how Aredhel is, if she managed to survive, where she is now, if she reached Himlad...." His voice died out, leaving a heavy silence in the air around them.
"If her horse escaped then there is still hope that she did as well," Glorfindel said, trying to convince himself as well as Ecthelion that she could still be alive and well. "She is a feisty elf, the spiders would have had a hard time trying to get her. I don't think that they would have managed to catch her before they chased us, we can only hope that she escaped in time."
The lords sat there in a thoughtful silence until the stars began to appear and the last rays of Arien faded in the west. Ecthelion headed back to his house to rest, however Glorfindel stayed up long into the night, pondering what may have become of the white lady of the Noldor, hoping that she had found safety.
