A/N: Chapter revised March 23, 2016
Chapter X: Confluence
It was not the way that Lucy had wanted to escape the dungeons, but escape she did. In a short amount of time she went from being trapped underneath the city to being trapped above it, hidden away in place that at any other time – objectively speaking – would have been considered lovely.
Lucy liked her hobbit holes and dark lord towers, so when Glorfindel spirited her out of the dungeons into Gondolin proper, the elven architecture wasn't to her liking. Morwen was unable to keep up with the elf lord's quick strides, and while the ellon was apologetic about this, he seemed disinclined to stop. By the time they reached the third city level, Morwen had fallen behind them.
The compound they ended up in was a walled estate of sorts, located on the third ring of the city from the top and facing westwards. The front entrance was large and arched, its doors open to the rest of the district as if inviting others indoors. Glorfindel sidestepped this, turning sharply to his left to dart down a narrow, darkened alley that was obscenely clean and barely three feet across. There, the two of them arrived at a small wooden door, the entrance hidden by pale green ivy creeping down the wall. The alley smelt overwhelmingly of pungent lilies, and Lucy could feel her migraine worsening as a result. Glorfindel shifted her so he could reach forward and grasp the door handle, leaning her against his chest. When he did so, Lucy ended up flailing in panic, wrapping her arms around his neck to keep her balance.
The elf lord ducked as they went through the door, placing his free hand against the top of Lucy's head to protect it. On the other side they entered an open courtyard divided in half, with the front open to the public and the back walled off by another partition. From where they were standing, Lucy could see a blacksmith's shop housed beneath an open pavilion. Near the main entrance there was an ivory colored building that looked like a guardhouse, along with something that could have passed for a stable. In the center of this estate there were several large structures. The largest one was an astonishing thirteen stories high, and didn't even include the sharply slanted roof that was crowning it. Giant ferns grew in the shadows along its base, while trellises of flowers clung to every available surface. The inner partition to the courtyard was coated in pale green ivy, which snaked its way across the central buildings to climb up the left side of the manor all the way to the rim of the roof.
Lucy's first impression of the compound was that it was very much a place that Rapunzel would have lived in; she also knew that Tommy would have adored the building to pieces. Glorfindel began walking towards the tower, his steps rather hurried. As he did so, several elves rode into the courtyard on horseback, dismounting with ease. Glorfindel and Lucy were pointedly ignored, save by one who turned to look in their direction as they passed. The ellon met Glorfindel's gaze, and the two elves exchanged a nod and a warm smile on Glorfindel's part before continuing onwards. Lucy turned against the elf lord's shoulder to look at the mounted party, eying the soldiers with suspicion.
The trip up the marble steps to the tower was a blur, as despite his size Glorfindel was uncannily agile. The elf lord was too light and fast on his feet, and this close he smelt like sunflowers, just as he had in the Council Chamber. Lucy's nose was still congested with blood, but as with the lilies the scent was so strong it overpowered her senses. She wanted to blame the sunflower smell on his hair, but it was easy to blame everything on Glorfindel's hair, as there really was too much of it. The loose strands brushed against the backs of her palms, its satin-like texture feeling downright alien.
"Go." Lucy mumbled, trying to lean away from him. "Let me go –"
When she began struggling weakly, twisting in Glorfindel's arms in an attempt to make him to put her down, the elf lord made a shushing noise, his voice soft with concern and affection. Quickly he adjusted her to a more manageable position, his free going to rest against her back. He bounded up the last few steps towards the main building. At the top of the stairs stood an ellon and elleth who had recently emerged from the tower. The two of them were so alike that Lucy surmised they must have been siblings, or maybe even twins. They were the exact same height, sporting the same grey eyes and ash brown hair. They were even dressed in identical deep yellow robes, although the neckline on the elleth's dress was lower.
The two elves bowed low when Glorfindel approached. Abruptly Lucy was struck with the notion that they didn't look very much like the Noldor. They were both lily pale, which seemed typical of their kind, but their hair was too light. Their eyes were oddly reminiscent of Glorfindel's despite the fact that they lacked his vivid sapphire chroma. Glorfindel greeted them warmly, sounding much too chipper for the severity that the situation allowed. The elf lord spoke directly to the elleth, and she listened attentively, only once glancing in Lucy's direction before she turned around and disappeared inside. The strange ellon watched them with a blank expression. He was shorter than Glorfindel, but not by much. When Glorfindel started speaking, the elf's expression softened noticeably, although his smile seemed somewhat forced. Lucy could see how upset the elf was in the way the skin pinched around his eyelids, the muscles in his jaw tightening. Glorfindel seemed oblivious to it all. He was speaking rapidly and with great excitement, his countenance brightening with child-like hope. The other ellon's gaze briefly fell on Lucy, before he returned his attention to his lord. That's when Lucy saw it: a resigned, old sort of sadness that came with experience. The ellon had seen something like this before, and he was not pleased.
Lucy squirmed in Glorfindel's arms, her head pounding and senses thick. Her limbs felt like jelly, but she didn't want him holding her, as being so close was nerve wracking. When Lucy pushed against the elf lord's chest to try and force him back, the ellon turned to look at her with a slightly distracted smile, shifting his arm beneath her. His free hand once again went to her side instead of her back, his fingers spreading languidly over her ribcage to hold her steady. The manner in which Glorfindel treated her and their vast difference in size had the unpleasant effect of making Lucy feel like a toddler. She hated it.
"Let me go." she pleaded, reaching up to pry unsuccessfully at his fingers. Even though Glorfindel's grip was gentle, she couldn't move his hands an inch. The elf lord ignored her protests, his smile widening. That stupid smudge of dirt from the dungeons was still dusting the ridge of his cheekbone, and most of his hair had escaped its knot.
"Look, Lucy." he said softly. He turned to look at the brown haired ellon, angling Lucy so she was facing their companion. The other elf was watching the two of them with an inscrutable expression. "Hen ná Aearmarth." Glorfindel continued, as if introducing her to the other elf. "E ná núro nín."
He turned to look at Lucy again, his expression hopeful. "Innas ci suilanna e?" he asked.
"Put me down." Lucy repeated coldly. Glorfindel ignored her request, although his smile fell a little. The other ellon was still watching them, his expression disquieting in its insurmountable distance, his pale gray eyes disturbingly blank. Whatever emotion had been there before, he was hiding it exceedingly well now.
"Hîr nín, nalyë thala hen ná sael?" he finally asked. Glorfindel nodded, his smile so brilliant it was akin to looking at the sun.
"Yes." he said, and Lucy understood. There was no hesitation to his voice, although he seemed a little breathless with elation. "Né, haná ni mára."
From the unimpressed look on the other ellon's face, it was clear that he disagreed. Glorfindel didn't seem to care. The smaller elf sighed, placing his right hand against his chest and bowing slightly in acquiescence. Then he turned to walk towards the entrance, his leather bound book held in his left hand. Glorfindel followed.
When they reached the door the brown-haired ellon pulled it open, his deep yellow robes rustling softly around his feet as they brushed along the floor. Glorfindel stepped past him. Once inside the other ellon shut the door. The wood groaned loudly in the cavernous space of what appeared to be a vaulted chamber. With the stranger leading, the three of them went up a flight of square-spiral steps located on the far right side of the room. Lucy kept squirming in Glorfindel's grasp despite the precarious nature of the stairs, and when they got to the third floor the elf lord sighed and finally relented, carefully putting her down.
Lucy's feet had barely touched the floor before she was trying to dart past him and down to the landing. Glorfindel simply swept her back into his arms with casual, unaffected grace, carrying her the rest of the way there. When they got to the fifth floor they exited the stairwell to enter a rather short hallway, its marble arches carved with what looked like intricate, life-like wreathes of flowers. A deep yellow carpet lay along the length of the corridor, and at the very end there was a double set of doors made of pale oaken wood. The brown-haired ellon walked towards it, opening the doors with a perfunctory quickness and standing to the right to let them enter.
Inside the room was large, but not too large, the architecture reminiscent of the Council Chamber. There was a long, wide table in the center of the room, upon which were piled dozens of maps and stacks of books. Half a dozen chairs were scattered about the room, and the left wall was lined with wooden bookshelves filled with scrolls and even more leather-bound tomes. There was a pale wooden door at the back of the room – a small one – and from the ceiling hung glass lamps that were a pale amber in color. Lucy surmised that the chamber was a study of sorts, and one that Glorfindel was familiar with, as he immediately relaxed upon entering. She hadn't realized how tense the elf was until she felt the muscles in his arms slacken. Cautiously, she chanced looking up at his face, and saw that Glorfindel's eyelids had lowered. His expression was slightly glazed over with warmth.
Lucy recognized that look. It was the same look that Tommy had worn whenever she was able to hide in one of her safe places, back before they came to Middle-earth. Home. Lucy realized abruptly. This is home for him. The elf lord didn't like being away.
Glorfindel quickly crossed the room, gently putting Lucy down in a wide, low-backed chair. He readjusted the blankets around her, before seeming to think better of it and hurriedly rushing over to grab an extra cover resting on the nearby table. The elf lord wrapped the soft russet blanket around Lucy's shoulders in what appeared to be an excessive amount of care. By the door, the ash-haired ellon watched them silently. His expression was not judgmental, per say, but Lucy could tell he was upset and getting more so the further Glorfindel fussed over her.
"I Aran ista ci gar dín?" the other ellon finally asked.
Glorfindel shook his head blithely. "No." he replied, light and unconcerned. The smaller elf's expression twisted slightly, as if he'd swallowed something bitter. Glorfindel asked him something, then. With a barely perceptible nod the ellon turned and glided out of the room in a rustle of yellow fabric, leaving Lucy alone with the elf lord. Immediately her anxiety skyrocketed. Glorfindel seemed to have a hard time behaving around others, and she was sure he would act out worse once they were alone.
Oddly enough, he didn't. The ellon actually became somewhat morose. The minute the other elf was out of earshot, Glorfindel's energy deflated, his happiness seeping away from him like water through a sieve. He wasn't sad, per say, but there was definitely a dejected air about him. Hesitantly the elf lord crouched in front of her, his long fingers fiddling with the edge of her blanket in what appeared to be a nervous gesture. Glorfindel was always fiddling with something during the quiet moments, and it seemed to grow worse when he was bothered. The two of them were at eye level like this, and Lucy noted that while the elf lord didn't have the complexion of a Noldo, he definitely had the face of one, his cheekbones high and his nose straight and narrow. The only other noticeable difference besides his coloring was the more pronounced tilt to his features.
Glorfindel opened his mouth as if to say something, but didn't, stopping himself before he could voice his first word. He was watching her with a mixture of hope and uncertainty, biting his bottom lip as he moved from picking at the edge of her blanket to absently curling a loop of Lucy's hair between his fingers. Lucy was almost positive now that he didn't realize he was doing it. It didn't seem to be a conscious act.
"Né ten nín neitha?" he finally asked. His voice lacked its usual confidence. Lucy glared at him, then looked away. Her head was pounding. Glorfindel seemed to like it when she met his gaze, and when Lucy didn't his expression fell into something rather heartbreaking.
"Lucy, it is me," he said sadly. The words were spoken in elvish, but very basic, so Lucy could infer their meaning. There was a hint of despair to Glorfindel's voice, and Lucy detected an odd sort of urgency beneath his tone.
What does he mean "it is me?" she thought. For reasons unknown, the feeling of tightness beneath her breastbone that had plagued her whenever something was about to go horribly wrong spiked. I shouldn't be here, she decided. I shouldn't. Cautiously, Lucy turned to look at Glorfindel. The elf lord's expression was so horribly honest and tragically open that she felt a surge of hatred when she still couldn't detect any rot. That smudge of dirt was still scrawled across his cheek, and the mere sight of it was irrationally annoying. Lucy reached out, wiping the dirt off his face with the edge of her sleeve. The elf lord visibly shuddered, his eyes going glassy as he leaned into her touch.
"You got dirt on your cheek." Lucy said simply, leaning away. She had bad impulse control. He did too, it seemed.
"Lucy –" Glorfindel began, his voice cracking as he said her name. At that moment a trio of elves entered the room in a clatter of armor, and Glorfindel's attention was diverted. He rose gracefully, turning to the other elves with a brilliant smile. It was as if the morbidity from before had never existed.
"Caragduin!" Glorfindel said to their leader, his voice full of its natural exuberance. "Ci na mae?"
The three elves were part of the company that Lucy had seen in the courtyard – the ones that had rode in on horseback – and like the twins they had the face and stature of the Noldor, but not the complexion of them. Only one of the elves was black haired, while the other two were blue-eyed and very fair. Their leader – who looked like a captain of sorts – was broad shouldered and tall, his flaxen braids pulled back from his face in a series of complicated knots and whorls. One of his hands was resting casually on the pommel of his sword.
"Mae govannen, Hîr nín." said the captain, placing his other hand over his chest and bowing slightly. "I edrain ná tîn." He was not especially welcoming, but neither was he reserved or cold. His gaze shifted carefully from the elf lord to Lucy, then back again. The ellon smiled slightly. Although his tone was light when he spoke, there was an edgy undercurrent to it.
"Ci gar nafair." he teased, but Lucy thought he wasn't really joking at all. "Tenna presta ad?"
"Yes." said Glorfindel blithely, gesturing briefly in Lucy's direction. "Hen ná Lucy. He partha avorn ammen."
The captain's good-natured veneer fell away almost immediately, his expression growing stark. "Ta pedi ulunn ná Lucy." he warned. Glorfindel's response was slightly less exuberant, his tone chastising. When he spoke, the words were familiar.
"She is a child," he stressed.
"Hîr nín." the captain said, his words sharp and brittle as he clenched his jaw. The elf's gaze darted from Lucy to the maps resting on the table. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "He polû na sinomë."
"He na moina." Glorfindel insisted, waving his hand dismissively and turning towards the table. "Trenar nin man ci gar cen."
The captain did not seem pleased by this, but like the brown-haired ellon before him he quickly fell into line. Moving to stand on the other side, he easily transitioned into explaining various items and areas of interest on the map, pointing here and there to metallic figurines on the table. Glorfindel remained at Lucy's side, his arms folded across his chest and his stance wide as he listened attentively, only once or twice interjecting with what sounded like a question. The other elves quickly left the room, and while the captain's responses to Glorfindel's friendly banter were clipped and confrontational, the elf lord remained disturbingly upbeat. So long as Lucy didn't move, he didn't look at her. It left her with the distinct impression that she was alone and very much ignored. Morwen wasn't there to translate what was being said, and Lucy felt constantly on guard and far out of her depth because of it, hyper-conscious of Glorfindel's looming presence. She huddled inwards, clenching her hands in her lap as she glared. Some of her loose hair fell across her face and into her eyes, as there was a slight breeze winding its way through the open windows. Outside, Lucy could see the snow capped mountains in the distance, the afternoon sun shining bright.
Where was Anaduilin, she wondered? Where was Limbrethil, or Morwen and Maeglin, or any anyone else that had taken care of her over the past several months? Morwen was probably lost somewhere in the city, she knew, and perhaps Anaduilin was still hunting for the creature, but Maeglin had no reason not to be there. He was an elf lord too, wasn't he? And the dungeons were his. She'd been gone over an hour now, and no one had come to find her.
Slowly, Lucy began to drown under a sense of abandonment.
She hated being cast aside, as it was one of the few things that were sure to provoke her to hysterics. They couldn't leave her alone. Not after all this time. Slowly, Lucy's breathing grew ragged, her anxiety deepening as she huddled up further. The captain shot her a cautious glance, and eventually Glorfindel reached out, placing his large hand against the back of her head as he gently smoothed down her hair. He kept his hand there while he continued talking, perhaps as a measure of comfort, but the elf lord's presence did little to ease her. If anything, it made Lucy's anxiety worse. Every time he touched her, she was hit with a wave of affection so strong it nearly took her breath away. The feeling that was coming off him was so overwhelming it was all but physical, and it was completely disconnected to the short amount time that the elf lord had know her. It made no sense.
About ten minutes after the captain arrived, the brown-haired ellon with the yellow robes returned. He had a bright red book shoved into his pocket, and there was a brassy tray with several delicate containers placed atop it clutched between his hands. Both elves greeted him as he set down the dishware, and Glorfindel held up his hand in what seemed to be a short call for recess. The captain turned to talk to the brown-haired ellon, placing a gloved hand against his shoulder as the two of them angled their bodies away from the table. Glorfindel retrieved a cup from the brassy tray, turning towards Lucy and approaching her with visible determination. Lucy was struck with the impression that he was somehow nervous. He appeared to be fidgeting again, the movement of his hands light and fluttering as a bird's.
Once more the elf lord crouched in front of her, holding out a cup of what looked like tea. The teacup was plain, the drink dark in color and smelling faintly of mint. Lucy eyed it suspiciously before looking up at the elf, only to catch him staring back and leaning in far too close. Again, his expression was hopeful and tremulous. Immediately Lucy lowered her gaze.
There was an encompassing intensity to the way Glorfindel stared at her; so open and unguarded that his expression bordered on vulnerable. Briefly, Lucy was reminded of the time when she'd first met Maeglin, where he had taken her drink and then offered it back to her, but that was where the similarities between he and Glorfindel ended. As per usual, Lucy's nightgown was slipping down her shoulder, but unlike Maeglin Glorfindel's eyes never strayed from her face. When he moved to touch her, the gesture was cautious, as if he was afraid of spooking her further.
Carefully, he curled Lucy's thin fingers around the teacup as he placed it between her palms, his hands warm as they gently covered hers. Glorfindel was very big for an elf, and when he cradled her hands they disappeared completely, but there was nothing blunt about his size. His palms were slim and milky pale, his fingers long and slender as a pianist's.
"Ci baur soga." he said, full of warmth. "Ci innas matha mára."
Lucy chanced looking up, eying the elf lord from behind her curtain of hair. It was a mistake. Glorfindel was still too close. She could see all the minute details of his face, from the slight downwards curve of his full bottom lip to the way the sunlight glanced across his eyes, making the blue of his irises light up with little flecks of silver. His left ear was poking through the fall of his hair, and vaguely Lucy noted that the delicate point was more pronounced. Not longer, like Anaduilin's, but definitely sharper, and oddly more elf-like. Everything about him was distinctly alien.
When Glorfindel saw her staring back, his gentle expression morphed into a fragile smile. One of his hands reached upwards to carefully card her hair away from her face. He seemed mindful of touching her skin directly, but some contact was unavoidable. As the elf lord tucked her hair away, his slim fingers brushed along the rounded shell of Lucy's ear. She shuddered and backed away from his touch, but oddly, Glorfindel seemed more visibly affected by the contact. A slight tremor ran along his arm, and he swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as if to clear something from his eyes. They were glassy looking, his pupils large. Lucy didn't know much about elven physiology, but if he'd been human she would've guessed that he was trying hard not to cry.
"Ci neth o ir me medui cen ci." he said, then gave a self-depreciating laugh. His smile was terribly sad. "Egor kwí nányë iaur. Uin ist."
Lucy didn't respond, other than to lean away and turn her face from his gaze. Being around Glorfindel was uncomfortable. It was uncomfortable for a multitude of reasons, but in general the elf lord caused a strange feeling to rise beneath her ribcage: one that made her insides twist themselves into terrible knots. It was a feeling closely related to the intangible sense of danger that lurked just beneath the surface, the one that had been plaguing her for weeks. The elf lord's interest in her was going nowhere good, and much too fast towards a destination Lucy had no interest in. Lucy had always veered towards the obsessive side herself, but she was an expert at recognizing that same debilitating trait in others. Glorfindel had it in spades. The thought that he might turn his focus on her was slightly terrifying.
The captain and the brown-haired ellon stepped further away, speaking rapidly to one another as they discussed something in secret. When Lucy continued to ignore him, Glorfindel didn't move. Eventually he drew close, using both his hands to cover hers as he bowed his golden head to rest it atop her knees. The elf lord hid his face against the fabric, his wavy blond hair spiraling into whorls along the floor.
"Lucy, gohena nin." he said, his voice thick with emotion and slightly muffled. His hands remained clasped around hers, as if praying for forgiveness. The elf lord sounded miserable, and once again seemed to have lost all sense of propriety. "Lá gohena nin. Únen fir ci."
Lucy didn't move, her body rigid beneath his proximity. Morwen was right. Glorfindel was too familiar with her. Had been too familiar with her, ever since he'd seen her in the Council Chamber. Something was definitely off. From across the room, a delicate cough sounded. Lucy looked up to see Glorfindel's captain moving back to stand on the other side of the table, his pale hands clasped in front of him. His expression was forcibly neutral, although Lucy detected a note of pity to it.
"Hîr nín." he said evenly. "I pano."
Glorfindel nodded against Lucy's knees, then let go of her hands as he gracefully rose to his full height. He was easily over six feet tall, but Lucy wouldn't have been surprised if he were actually seven. The ellon absently brushed her hair away from her face, before he seemed to forget himself and was threading his fingers through it instead. Briefly, the elf lord leaned over until his heavy golden tresses were tumbling across her arms to collect atop her lap. Lucy felt a strange, soft weight press down on top of her head as he placed a chaste kiss near her temple.
NO. Her conscience screamed in protest. NO, TOO CLOSE. Lucy was no good at picking up the nuances of their language, but she had been around the elves long enough to know a few basic words.
"My Lucy." she heard him whisper against her hair, almost reverent. "I missed you."
She nearly dropped her teacup in shock.
Author's Note
Thank you to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed! To guest reviewer Mellon: no, she definitely didn't see an orc. I won't say more though, because I like to keep people guessing. To itspouringrain: your comment was so sweet! Work is good, but stressful. Convention season always is. And you don't have to beg. I might not be able to update every week, but I will definitely try to update at least once a month. Waiting any longer for updates is horrible.
Thank you to msg839 and EpitomyofShyness, for beta'ing.
Glossary
Like before, names first, sentences last (and in chronological order). Beware of the bad Sindarin grammar. There's a lot of it this time.
Aearmarth – Name
Caragduin– Name
Hen ná Aearmarth – This is Aearmarth
E ná núro nín – He is my seneschal/servant (Quenya)
Innas ci suilanna e – Will you greet him
Hîr nín, nalyë thala hen ná sael – My Lord, are you sure this is wise
Haná ni mára – It is for the best (Quenya)
I Aran ista ci gar dín – The King knows you have her
Né ten nín neitha – Was it my fault
Caragduin!Ci na mae – Caragduin! You are well
Mae govannen, Hîr nín – Well met, my Lord
I edrain ná tîn – The border is quiet
Ci gar nafair – You have been busy
Tenna presta ad – Up to trouble again (Quenya)
Hen ná Lucy. He partha avorn amen – This is Lucy. She will be staying with us
Ta pedi ulunn ná Lucy – They say the creature's name is Lucy
Hîr nín. He polû na sinomë – My Lord. She shouldn't be in this room
He na moina. Trenar nin man ci gar cen – She is safe. Tell me what you have seen
Ci baur soga. Ci innas matha mára – You need to drink. You will feel better
Ci neth o ir me medui cen ci – You (are) younger (than) when I last saw you
Egor kwí nányë iaur. Uin ist – Or maybe I am older. I do not know (Quenya)
Lucy, gohena nin – Lucy, forgive me
Lá gohena nin. Únen fir ci – Please forgive me. I did not find you
Hîr nín. I pano – My lord. The plan (Quenya)