Title: Lies and Betrayal

Summary: Revelations, post fall of Gondolin. Will make no sense if you have not been following Gondolin RPG.

Warnings: Vague references to torture and sadism.

Pairings: Idril/Tuor and Ecthelion/Maeglin mentioned

Rating: PG-13

He knew why he had come back.

Tuor had claimed it was to search for other survivors, but no matter what he told himself he knew it was a lie. Finding survivors would be a bonus, of course, but that was not the underlying reason for his return to Gondolin.

He was more vigilant than normal. Tuor knew that creatures of Morgoth still roamed the vale, and while one or two would not pose such a threat to him, the numbers that had swarmed their city would overwhelm him in a short while. But the only things he encountered were forest animals that went on unaware of the tragedy that had rocked the denizens of Gondolin's world less than a day ago.

The smoke still curled up from the structures when came within sight of the city. The sun's light beamed down on the wreckage of his former home.

His wife, screaming for his help… His hand reaching out, a second too late…

Tuor shook himself from his disturbing reverie. He was here for a reason, and he needed to begin.


The task seemed even more enormous than it had during his journey. Tuor couldn't even count the number of bodies that lay strewn around. Some still held expressions of surprise or shock on their faces, while others appeared to have remained unaware of their fate up to the very end. He tried to cover them all in some manner, to grant the victims a final degree of dignity in death.

It was only when he approached the Fountain of the King that he stopped.


"Help! Tuor, please help me!" Idril, screaming while she clung to her cousin desperately. They were near the Caragdur, and Tuor had just barely made it as Idril was thrown down.


Ecthelion appeared much as he did in life. His helmet had come off, revealing his black hair that he had been so proud of. Tuor knew then that he could not abandon the Fountain Lord to a mere covering of cloth. The mortal man picked up a stone, and began to make a pile.

It took over an hour. After he had gathered all the rocks he would need, he began to pull out Ecthelion. Tuor noticed his hands were bare, and the ring he had proudly worn for seven years was missing.

Part of wanted to believe that the orcs had stolen it for some kind of trophy. But he had seen other valuables left on bodies, and he knew who had taken it.


"Isn't it beautiful?"

The eyes of the Lord of the Fountain were sparkling with joy. Tuor had not had the chance to speak with Ecthelion for some time. It looked as if quite a few things had changed since they last spoke.

"A fish," he remarked, seeing the delicately carved scales and fin. "A pearl seems a strange choice for a wedding band, though."

Ecthelion grinned once more. "For me," he stated, "It is absolutely perfect. Just wonderful."

"Marriage suits you, I take it."

"Tuor, it is wonderful. He made the rings himself and did not let a word of it slip to anyone." A sigh. "There are no words for how happy I feel right now. None."


He did not think about the ring as he gave Ecthelion the full honors he had earned in death. He did not think of what had happened until he found himself standing at the very spot of his failure, the Caragdur.

He knew that Maeglin intended to throw himself from the peak. If Idril would not allow him to drown himself by his spouse, then the place his father had died many years before would suffice.

Earendil had followed them all the way, confused as to what his Uncle was trying to do. Idril grabbed him, and held her son tight as finally the Lord of the White Tree reached them. He had seconds to react.

As Maeglin fell back, Tuor reached out his hand. His fingertips brushed against the Mole Lord's for a moment, and then there was nothing.


He finally was able to glance down, to see what he had not been able to stop scarcely more than a day ago.
Tuor was less careful as he returned to the camp of survivors. His thoughts were on his failure, which had assumed gigantean proportions in the time he had been gone.

"You had no luck." Idril. His wife.

He shook his head. "I tried to bury all those I could. I made a cairn for Ecthelion. I tried to do the same for Glorfindel, but he had burned too much for me to do anything."

She nodded and looked at him hopefully. "Maeglin…did you…"

He opened his mouth.


It was not what he saw that disturbed him. Tuor had seen a good deal of corpses over the last day or so, and he doubted anything could shock him at this point.

It was what he did not see.

There was no broken body lying on the rocks below.

They could have taken the body as some kind of prize- but they had taken no others.

Tuor knew Morgoth tolerated no failure from his servants.


"Yes," he finally lied. "I took care of him as well."

"Earendil will be pleased. He was afraid that they would do something horrible to his uncle."

Oh, they will. Believe me, they will, he thought.


It was later that night when prayed to the Valar.

He knew of the sadistic pleasure that Morgoth took with his captives. He knew that by failing, Maeglin had gone even lower in the dark vala's eyes than before.

What would become of him? What tortures would he now undergo, alone and without even a thought of rescue?

And all did was ask for forgiveness and mercy. Forgiveness for not having saved Maeglin, and mercy in a quick death for him.

But he knew that his prayers would not be answered.