Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs. Hmph. -_-

A/N: This was originally written as an extra-credit story for my first fanfic ever – a 600 page thriller. (Yeah, right.) This was pretty rotten back then, but I edited it a good bit and I think it's fairly passable now.

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter One

Betrayal

Eamrös stood upon the high walls of Gondolin, and looked out across the wide green plains beyond. The sun was sinking into the west in a flame of crimson and gold, kindling the white walls of the city as the great orb of light dipped slowly beneath the high peaks of the Encircling Mountains. The bright grasses of Tumladen shimmered as emeralds touched with fire, and everywhere upon the sward white flowers like stars sprang up in the dusk. A wonderful joy smote him as he looked out over the walls, and his mind returned to the day when he had first gazed upon the Hidden City.

It had been in times long gone, when a darkness and a shadow lay heavy over the land. Orcs had overrun and burned a small settlement of Elves at the Havens of Sirion, and the unscathed Elves had been taken to Angband, doomed to toil in endless slavery and thraldom under Morgoth's unyielding rule.

He, and a few others, had escaped at last from the dark dungeons of Angband and fled from Morgoth's reach. In the midst of his lonely wanderings thence he had found himself beneath the lofty peaks of the mountains, and gazing in wonder upon the glorious city that lay behind them. Gondolin, they had named it – 'hidden city' – and the Elves had shown him mercy and taken him in.

Suddenly there was a murmur of surprise from the Elves about him. A scarlet light had risen above the Northern Echoriath, growing brighter as it blotted out the stars. Eamrös stared in wonder at the light even as voice began to whisper in awe. Some said it was Arien, rising even above Angband for the banishment of Melkor's darkness, and that she came as a sign of renewed hope to the Gondolindrim. Others said nay, and many were uneasy. But the red glow faded at last from the dusky sky, and the discomfort of the Elves was lost as night fell deeply upon the city.

As Eamrös stood in the shadows amid the ranks of his house, a gentle voice spoke suddenly at his shoulder.

"Blest be the white city which concealed you from the darkness and brought you safely to me!"

Eamrös turned, seeing that his sister stood beside him, dressed in a gown of deep green like the fields of Tumladen in the spring. Her dark hair tossed in the gentle breeze, shining with an underlying tint of red-gold, and the bright eyes which regarded him with loving joy were blue-green as the sea.

"Eäryendë, venimelda," he said, smiling upon her. "May the Valar look upon our city as they gazed upon me in my sorrow, and delivered me from all my grief!" Catching up a lock of her long hair, he wove it through his fingers before releasing it to the gentle wind. With a laugh, Eäryendë lifted her brother's hand and placed her own in his strong palm, and together they looked out towards the east.

The wind of summer-eve caught Eamrös's ebony hair as he stood upon the Eastern Walls, but he felt only joy and contentment. His sister stood proud and tall at his side, and he served a valiant lord and a mighty king. His eyes shone, for a hope had returned to him that seldom touched the cursed who had beheld the deep places of Morgoth's realm. The scars he bore, both physical and emotional, from his captivity had not faded, and there were Elves of his house, such as his cousin Cebrindil, who would never be wholly free again. Many avoided Cebrindil, uncomfortable around the sober Elf and his dark broodings, but Eamrös did not shun his cousin as did the others. He knew all too well the pain Cebrindil had endured, and the shadow that lay over his heart still. Without the tender love of Eäryendë, the bitter wounds that had been inflicted upon his spirit would never have been healed.

Caewyn, of the royal line of Turgon, wandered throughout the House of Kings, gazing upon the banners and tapestries that adorned the walls. They were all very beautiful, but one in particular caught her eye. This tapestry hung opposite her, over the golden throne at the end of the hall. The rays of the fading sun snatched away the brilliant colour of the other embroideries, and the images disappeared, but this one did not fade. In the gathering darkness its fine threads shone, and Caewyn saw that it showed Idril and Tuor standing upon the green glades about Gondolin, their hands joined, and the wind caught in their mingling hair. A bright light surrounded them, and the freshly-budded trees rained down white blossoms at their feet. But against the brilliant scarlet of the dawning sky glittered an iridescent star, glowing like fire in the empty sky.

Caewyn's eyes flew from the dimming tapestry, her heart thudding in her chest as she sensed a subtle difference in the air.

Something strange... something evil.

The maiden turned and fled from the room, down the long hall, and out through an archway onto the western walls beyond. She could hear the mournful sound of a lone harp weaving its sad tale, far away, like the wisp of an echoing song. The sky was clear and star-bright, unmarred in its loveliness by any cloud, but against the horizon, flames flickered red beneath the mountains. The fire had reappeared, burning high as it enveloped completely the eastern sky. Caewyn's eye was drawn immediately to it, the cold hand of fear clutching at her heart. Her dark blue cloak was wrapped tightly about her by the rising wind, carrying upon it fell voices of evil.

Trembling, afraid, Caewyn stood there yet for a time, golden hair streaming about her, her deep blue eyes searching out over the Echoriath as she strove to find some difference in the air. But only the insidious red glow signified that some change had been made.

Now a fear and a foreboding rose in her heart, and she turned away. The city was silent beneath the stars, but such a quietness was not welcome to her ears. She could hear nothing. It was not right, she fretted, and the worry in her eyes grew.

The flames flickered over the dark mountaintops. A faint crash echoed through the air, and Caewyn whirled. A cry rang in her ears from the city below, and then there was the sound of running feet in the corridor behind her. She turned to see many Elves girding themselves with weapons and armour, and she ran towards them.

"Eámanë!" She caught at her brother's hand, but he pulled her through the archway and into the hallway beyond.

"Caewyn!" he cried in surprise. "Why do you linger?"

"What is happening?" she begged him. "What is the flame?"

"You must flee, sister!" Eámanë's eyes flashed dark and angry. "The might of Angband has been unleashed! We have been betrayed!" He tugged on her arm, drawing her deeper behind him into the relative safety of the corridor. "To the secret passageway, Caewyn – Lady Idril awaits you there!"

Betrayed?

By whom?

"Run, Caewyn," her brother was saying earnestly, his hands gentle but firm upon her shoulders. "Hurry..."

A desperate yell reached their ears. "They approach the city!"

Caewyn gazed into her brother's eyes, anxious and sorrowing. She saw the love and loyalty he bore for his home, and felt that same love rising within herself. And she knew she could not flee. She could not run from her home. She could not leave her father and brother to die alone.

"Please, Caewyn..."

Without turning to look back, Caewyn wrenched her shoulders from his grasp and fled down the hallway towards the secret passage, hearing the sound of booted feet pounding upon the floor as the ellyn left. She made her way through nigh-abandoned halls until she reached the wide corridor leading to the secret doorway. But she was unable to follow that path for long. Many Elven maidens ran towards and past her, leading terrified elflings by the hand, and she flattened herself against the wall to allow them to pass. The door stood open ahead... she could see the dark tunnel, the twisting turns that led at last to open plains far from the city.

Safety. But not for her.

With a deep breath, the elleth pushed herself off the wall and turned to leave.

"Lady Caewyn!"

She turned hurriedly as a young maiden ran up behind her, gripping her arm tightly. "The passage is back there!"

Caewyn nodded briefly, smiling lightly into the girl's face. "Iston."

"Then why... oh." The elleth's face paled as she realised the other Elf's intent. "You surely cannot be intending to fight? For you shall surely be slain!"

"Then I shall be proud to die as one of the Gondolindrim!" replied Caewyn, her eyes flashing. But then her voice softened. "Forgive me, my friend. Save yourself! I wish to die, if so the Valar wish, between my father and brother, who fight to protect our fair city."

"Do not do this! Caewyn, please!" the elleth begged, fingers still tightly gripping Caewyn's sleeve. "Your lot is not to die at the hands of those fiends. Come to the passage and flee with us!"

She was touched by the girl's love, but no... her duty was to one whose hold was far greater. Pulling her arm free, Caewyn pushed her on down the hallway. The elleth's friends had fled, not waiting for her. "Go on," she ordered gently. "If the Valar wish for us to meet again, we shall. Until then, namárië!"

Stifling a sob, the young maiden stumbled down the hallway, not looking back. Caewyn did not stir from her position until the girl passed around the corner and, with a last glance back, disappeared from her sight.

Elvish Translations:

Venimelda – fair maiden

Gondolin – in Sindarin, this means "song of stone". But I have taken it to mean "hidden city", because gond = rock, and dolen = hidden.

Iston – I know.