He sat in his tent, like usual, watching the horizon. He wished he could fly away, and never return. He was surrounded by people on a regular basis, yet he was all alone. No one could help him, not against this. He had witnessed the might of Melkor himself, and even now the Vala had a hold over his mind. He had no doubt that Melkor had placed him on the top of his hit-list after the people of Gondolin had managed to escape. And he knew that no one among the Golodhrim would try to save him if Morgoth were to sent his armies with the intent of capturing him the second time. And there would be no mercy for him should Morgoth succeed. He had destroyed his only sanctuary, by his own hands, and it was all for nothing.
Meleth and Egalmoth came often, and Meleth always brought the cup with her. He drank its content eagerly each time, hoping for some release from his pain, however brief it was. Meleth and Egalmoth regaled him with tales of ancient times while they waited for the mixture to take effect. Sometimes Turgon would come too, and he made him feel loved. It didn't last, for his demons were too strong to really vanquish. The best he could hope for were these moments of respite, of blissful nothingness. Of misguided tenderness. Turgon, Meleth and Egalmoth were the only ones who treated him with kindness. Everyone else saw the truth: that he didn't deserve any kindness.
True to his predictions, the attack came when they were halfway through. The enemy force consisted of Gothmog the Balrog, and one battalion of Orcs. It was one of the rare moments he was awake. He gripped the hilt of his broadsword, ready to leap into the fray. Gothmog sensed this and turned to look directly at him. One of the Orcs stepped forward, addressing them in lieu of Gothmog.
"There doesn't have to be any bloodshed." the Orc addressed Turgon "Just give us what we came for."
Then the same Orc looked at him.
"You feel it, don't you?" the Orc spoke "The pain...The guilt...You know that all those around you hate you. Surrender yourself, Eolion, and we can end thy suffering for good."
"That's not true." Meleth spoke in a firm voice "There are those who care for him too. Like me."
"Is it so?" the Orc spoke again, and his tone was light "You keep him comatose for a good portion of each day, and aren't you preparing a trial for him as soon as you reach the Havens of Sirion?"
"Turgon will be merciful." Meleth countered
"Is it not true that you were shunned by your own folk?" the Orc addressed him again
He paid Meleth no heed as he began to walk forward, as if he was in a trance. Then, Egalmoth and Enerdhil appeared between him and the Orcs, swords drawn.
"Let it not be said that we don't fight for one of our own." Egalmoth said passionately
"I can't forgive him." Enerdhil added "But in the memory of the past, I'll fight for him."
"Me too." Turgon had a fierce look in his eyes, as he stepped forward, Glamdring in hand
"You're not alone." Meleth whispered gently, placing her hand atop of his
And a lone tear rolled down his cheeks for the first time in weeks.
Then he looked up with steely determination.
"I'll fight too." he announced, stepping forward to stand beside Turgon "With my father's blade."
"Then you will regret not surrendering, whelp." the Orc growled "And Morgoth's hatred would follow you till the end of the world. He'll torture you until the end of time."
"That is, if you manage to capture him." Turgon said coldly
The battle had begun.