The next year the Golodrim erupted into celebration yet again when Idril gave birth to a son. The newlyweds had wasted no time, not only because of Tuor's mortality, but because both Tuor and Idril inherently sensed that Gondolin's time was short as well. The news elsewhere in the world was grim. Nargothrond had fallen and Doriath had been destroyed from within. Lúthien and Beren's son Dior was trying to restore the Hidden Kingdom, but the famous lovers had disappeared from the face of Arda, and with them went a great deal of hope, especially for the Sindar. The Goldorim were disturbed by such tidings but remained confident that their beloved city would forever be immune to such disasters.

They named their son Earendel. He took after the Noldor and looked very much like his grandfather King Turgon. Even though both his parents had golden hair, his was dark. Idril's eyes were gray, Tuor's green, but their son had eyes of deep blue. He was fair of face and form and had Turgon's laugh. Even as a babe he had a hearty, boisterous laugh. He carried himself with the grace of his mother and she suspected he had inherited some of her foresight. But he was drawn to water as his father was and from his early years was fascinated with his father's tales of Mankind, Ulmo, and the Sea. The first thing he did when he learned to crawl was to crawl straight toward the fountains. Idril was terrified that he would drown until she realized he could swim like a minnow and laughed as he splashed about. After that, the whole family had their own private fountain and swam together.

Turgon loved all members of his family, but Earendel soon became the apple of his eye. He was proud to be a grandsire, pleased that the child looked so much like him, and was convinced he was a child of prophecy. The infant was uncommonly sweet and beautiful and seemed to love Turgon equally. The mere sound of his voice made him laugh. Having an infant around again, Turgon decided, was a blessing. But Earendel was growing fast. Turgon feared if he so much as blinked, the babe would be half-grown. He thought of how he had taken Idril's childhood for granted and felt ashamed.

"I swear the boy doubles in size every week!" Turgon exclaimed when Idril placed him in his lap. "I would very much like to see him more often."

"Very well, milord," Idril said with a smile. "That would be better for everyone. I can catch more sleep and Earendel adores you."

"I would very much like to see more of you as well, Idril," Turgon said with all seriousness. "You and Tuor could move your apartments closer to my own chambers within the palace. Then I could see my family daily, as I ought to."

"That is a sweet gesture," Idril knitted her eyebrows. "But then you would find it impossible to regain the time you had for your work, the city, yourself. If we lived so close, Earendel may wake you in the night with his crying or Tuor and I if we should have disputes. It would cause you undue stress."

"It would be an honor to be part of your life, Idril; the one you go to for advice, for comfort, for companionship. I feel I cheated you and you deserved better."

"How did you cheat me?"

"I could have been a better father. For too long, I was angry with myself for your mother's death. I was even angry at her. A small part of me warned that taking her from Valinor was a mistake...

Maeglin was angry and it was one of those days where his anger consumed him. He took a walk about the palace and considered going down into his forge until he spotted Idril from the balconies. He watched her from afar.

She was playing with her son in the fountains, wearing a simple white dress and was knee deep in water. She was pulling Earendel gently about the waters, dipping him, cooing and laughing as she allowed him to try to float and splash his little arms and feet. The babe howled with laughter and then howled again, but his pitch and tone had changed drastically. He was hungry. There was a team of attendants to aid her. She had accepted them only after her father insisted. She was grateful for their company now that she had come to realize that even the best parents needed help once in a while. In this instance, however, she knew exactly what do to. She had come to recognize the unique cries that a baby made when they needed food or sleep or had wetted. She sat near the edge of the pool and began nursing using a cloth to cover herself and the baby. He was soaking wet and shivering, yet he loved the water so much.

Tuor arrived and kissed his wife lovingly. Then he stepped into the pool with his son, wondering if the babe could somehow sense the presence of Ulmo as he had when he was a young child. If his son had been born with the Sea longing, he may be miserable if he remained in the city for long. Perhaps he would grow up to be the first Mariner King. Perhaps he would be called by Ulmo for some special task as Tuor had been. Instead of being called to wander the waters of the Sea or to slay a dragon, he had been tasked to find the Hidden City to be a simple messenger. And to wed an Elf-Princess. He would never have never guessed such would be his fate and suspected that not even the Valar had known. They knew the Music, but not the Method or the Message of the One. However, as strange as it seemed, it had worked out for Tour and the Sea longing for the moment seemed cured as he splashed playfully at his wife and son.

Maeglin could not watch any more. He decided to venture out to the Echoriath alone so that he could calm his rage and plot some way to regain his former glory. While he was out there he hoped to find a new claim of mithril or some other precious metal. The stone had always sung to him ever since he was a child. He attached no deity to it, but it was a comfort to him nonetheless at times to remain surrounded by the singing stones. The people might speak more positively of him if he brought more wealth into the city. They spoke only of Earendel and the recent announcement Turgon had made: That Idril was the official heir and her son after her. It ruined his chances of becoming King.

Turgon was convinced that Earendel was a Child of Prophecy thanks to Huor's words and that the boy would choose the Twilight of the Elves, not the Doom of Man. He was certain that if the Valar saw this mingling of Races it would strengthen both the Eldar and Mankind and the Valar would see and revoke the Doom of Mandos. He seemed to have forgotten Maeglin. He had become much closer to Idril.

She should be mine, Maeglin thought to himself. It should be my own babe at her breast. Her claim should be mine. Is it not just as conceivable that my son would be a child of destiny? A child born of pure blood rather than mixed? A child whose father would at least live long enough to see the fruit of his seed grow and ripen? Oh, Idril, what do you see in that mortal?

He found it just as maddening to watch Idril kiss and cuddle her baby as it was to witness passionate kisses between Tuor and Idril. If he had been allowed one moment alone with the brat, Maeglin would have strangled him in his crib. He laughed at the irony when Tuor named Maeglin the babe's godfather. He was so incredibly oblivious to Maeglin's true feelings and so eager to befriend his wife's kinsman he had announced it after Turgon pronounced the child an heir. A quick glance at Idril revealed that she was not pleased with the impulsive decision, though her expression was so subtle only his sharp glance caught it. Maeglin could not refuse the damnable honor, and so he held the child in his arms and made sure to shower him with the proper gifts.

Perhaps he could take advantage of Tuor's blind trust. His father Eöl had taught him of poisons and the less obvious ways to use them. He had vowed to himself once that he would never stoop so low, but the idea proved more and more tempting every day. He had to be very careful that the poison could not be traced back to him. It was not so strange for mortals to grow ill and die with little to no explanation. It was not uncommon for Elf-children to fall ill and perish either. He wondered if he could poison a cloak and give it to Tuor or seek some plague infested blanket to give to Earendel. He could even find a way to drug Idril, not to harm her, but to destroy her child. The ill effects of the drug would pass into her breast milk and Earendel would suck whatever poison it contained, sparing Idril and condemning the child. With both husband and son dead, even the strongest of mind and body could crack. Idril would be vulnerable and might seek warmth and comfort from anywhere...

Suddenly an arrow screeched through the air. Maeglin caught it in his sword arm. He let out a cry of rage, too shocked to even feel pain. It was then that Orcs crawled out from between stones where they had been hiding. Maeglin scowled and drew his sword with his uninjured arm, wishing he had trained more often with it. It felt clumsy and awkward and his swordplay suffered greatly from the handicap. He counted the Orcs and observed their gear. There were three score and armed lightly for stealth, but what little they had would prove affective. They were much smarter and more skilled than the average Orc. They were dangerously close to Gondolin and had not been spotted and killed by the Eagles.

Maeglin knew he had little chance, but he was no coward. He fought bravely and managed to kill one of them and injured several others before he was overwhelmed. He cursed himself for wandering so far alone. For once, his paranoia and assassins would have served him well. The Orcs tied his hands and legs and argued furiously about what to do with him. They stripped him of whatever valuables he had. Then they inspected him and saw that he was muscular and strong. He might make a good thrall. Others demanded to avenge those he had slaughtered. These Orcs were scouts, not slavers. Dragging along a captive would slow them down or blow their cover. Unless the prisoner proved more valuable than they imagined, they may have no choice but to kill him.

Maeglin listened to their debating and knew if he allowed them, he would be slain sooner or later. He refused to lose control. He refused to be a victim. Perhaps he could manipulate them. He was determined to outsmart the Orcs.

"Know you not that I am Maeglin nephew to Turgon?" he said.

"What is that to us?" they growled in response.

Maeglin laughed, "Do you Orcs know nothing of your enemies? I am Prince of the Hidden City!"

"You are a liar trying to save your own skin!"

"Oh, am I?"

"The Hidden City is a place made up by you fairies to give hope to the weak and to stir rebellion in thralls."

"Is it?"

Maeglin began to describe the city, giving them no details that would betray its secrets but prove that he at least had extensive knowledge. He described the great fountains, some of which fired into the air over thirty feet. He described the walls of polished white stone and gave their dimensions and their thickness. He boasted of the uniforms the soldiers wore and of Turgon's rod and sword. He described the beauty of Idril Celebrindal and the other maidens of Gondolin. As the Orcs listened, they became envious and more and more angry. He made the city sound so glorious and fair. They thought of Angband, their Master's city that sounded pale in comparison. They did not want to believe him. Surely there was no greater city than their own. Their captive was exaggerating and spinning webs of lies. They drew a cruel looking axe.

"Spill my blood and it will cost you dearly!" Maeglin cried. "You fools!"

"So long as you are dead and this meeting unheard of, it will cost us nothing."

"Take me to Morgoth then," Maeglin blurted out. "Let him decide if I speak the truth!"

"Do you have a death wish, Elf?"

The Orcs were perplexed. None of their captives had ever requested to be brought before Morgoth, and the Orcs refused to mention their Master by any name but only by title.

"If I had a death wish, ape, I would have let you use that axe. You will take me to your Master and you will treat me according to my station. No doubt Morgoth will reward you. In the meantime, I will remember every insult, every cut and bruise. I will remember all! You would be wise to treat me well. If nothing else, you will gain a talented smith. The sword I carry and that you took was made by my father. The armor I was wearing is my own handiwork. Now let us speedily be on our way. Cut the ropes about my ankles and I shall keep a better pace than the lot of you."

"You make many demands, Elf. Too many. No doubt you would set a fast pace as you try to run off!" the Orc spat in his face. "Until you prove you are worthy to breathe our air, you'll get no special treatment!"

Maeglin was relieved that for the moment he was alive, but a new dread was in his heart now. What had he been thinking when he asked to see Morgoth! He felt ashamed that he had even described the irrelevant details of Gondolin, the sorts of things his mother had told him as they sat before the fire long ago in the shadows of Nan Elmoth. He should have let the Orcs use their axe. He had only delayed his fate and endangered the last of the Hidden Kingdoms and all those he loved. Simply by capturing him the Enemy now knew that they were closer than ever before to finally discovering the city itself.

Was he a coward? No, he told himself. He had betrayed nothing yet. There may be an opportunity to escape upon the road. But such a chance never came. The Orcs kept him bound and guarded at all times. They did not return his clothing or equipment and never rested. It grew more overcast as they drew closer to Angband. His captors need not worry about the sun anymore. Maeglin watched the sky, hoping that the Eagles would come to his rescue. But Thorondor and his ilk must have flown south for the season. Maeglin's last hope was crushed and his anger replaced it. He had always felt that the Golodrim relied too heavily upon the feathered race.

By the time they reached Angband, Maeglin's feet were cut up and bruised as were his wrists and ankles from the ropes. He was shivering and ill from the long exposure to the elements with no food or water. He was thoroughly humiliated and terrified. He was dragged through the Thrall Vaults before he was brought before the Iron Throne in case he was not frightened enough. Most of the Elves were worked so hard that they had aged like mortals and were mercilessly beaten if they so much as paused. The maidens were kept elsewhere and were used not as thralls of labor but instead as breeding mares to keep the Orc population replenished. Maeglin was one of the first to learn that terrible secret.

Morgoth was a horror to behold. He was gigantic in stature and covered head to toe in cruel iron armor. It was hard to believe that he had once been fair. When he chose to become part of the Marred World, he was forced to take a physical form and chose to be terrifying. He still wore the Iron Crown but had placed a diamond in the empty socket where the third Silmaril had once been before it was stolen by Beren and Lúthien. He covered his face as well save for his deadly eyes. Only two people upon the earth had proven they could withstand his piercing gaze: Lúthien and Húrin.

"I have been told that this sniveling worm wishes to sell out the secrets of the last remaining Hidden Kingdom for his life!" Morgoth sneered. "Is it so?"

Maeglin knew what his fate would be if he refused to break his silence. He would be tortured by the Balrogs to the point of death then slain or put with the other miserable thralls. He could not let that happen.

"Oh, Melkor Master of Arda, you have only to command me, and I shall do as you command. I am no enemy of yours, but your servant."

"Thou art the son of Aredhel and nephew of King Turgon and a traitor and rebel by birth!"

"There are some among the Eldar that worship you in secret and live amongst the others in fear. I am not Noldoli, but Telerian through my father Eöl the Dark Elf. When my mother brought me to the Hidden City, it was to convert me from his ways. After Turgon had him executed when he rightfully pursued us, I had no choice but to remain and to live as one of them or suffer the same fate. I am my father's son still."

His words were twisted and vile. He knew it was so even as he said them, but something possessed and bewitched him. His will to survive had taken control. His loyalty to Turgon and Gondolin was forgotten. He was able to claim kinship to the father he had always hated and to praise and flatter Morgoth with minimal effort. A small voice inside him screamed against it. He should rather curse the Dark Lord and keep his lips sealed forever. He should endure his torment and die with honor. But the voice was weak and faltering by the moment.

Morgoth was suspicious. The last time he allowed himself to be seduced by flattery and charm, he had lost a Silmaril and the fairest of all maidens had slipped from his grasp. He was impressed that Maeglin used his ancient name Melkor and that the Elf seemed more than willing to cooperate. So eager was he to destroy the last true stronghold of the Elves that he was feeling generous enough to spare Maeglin from torture and more, especially after Maeglin's pronouncement:

"I know the secrets of Gondolin. I will tell you all, for it profits the both of us should Turgon fall and the Noldor set straight for good. I ask for so little, and you gain so much. If my bonds were cut, I could start drawing maps."

Morgoth was so overjoyed that he had Maeglin's bonds removed. He was robed in riches and given food, wine, and treatment for his wounds. Maeglin drew detailed maps, described the numbers of the armies. He told of the weapons, the names of generals and other leaders and everything else the Dark Lord wanted to know.

"Thou hast done well, Elf," Morgoth said, "and for this shall be spared."

Maeglin was relieved, but he realized at once that was not enough. Now that he had truly betrayed Gondolin, nothing else mattered. He might as well request whatever he desired.

"I could remain here and labor as a miserable thrall. I could craft you poisons and weapons and armor, or I could return to Gondolin and act as your spy and infiltrator. I am close to the King," he explained. "To be frank, Turgon is a fool. He would never suspect me. I can prepare the city for you, spread fear and doubt, even shed blood if need be. I would ask only for what I deem reasonable as a reward."

"What reward wouldst thou require?" Morgoth decided to humor him.

"Lordship of Gondolin upon Turgon's death or capture. The city shall be ruled in your name, but not obliterated off the face of the map. I plan to build it anew and make it greater than it was before."

"What else?"

Maeglin took a long draught of wine before he answered, "You may slay or enslave any maiden of Gondolin save one. That would be Idril Celebrindal daughter of Turgon. No harm shall befall her. Should she be captured, she is to be delivered to me promptly."

A quick look into Maeglin's eyes revealed to Morgoth his thoughts and the Dark Lord slowly smiled and his eyes danced, "Thine own cousin? How very... interesting. Anything else?"

Maeglin took another drink, "Aye. There is the matter of her son and husband. I want them destroyed."

Morgoth laughed maniacally and said, "It shall be so! Thou shalt prepare the way for my armies and in return thou shalt rule it as a fiefdom of Angband. Tuor and Earendel shall be burned and Princess Idril will be delivered to thy arms."

Maeglin quivered at the thought. Hatred for Tuor and desire for Idril had led him all the easier to his treachery. The small voice that had held him back was gone now.

"Return to the Hidden City now, Elf," Morgoth said. "Act as though nothing has happened and continue to report every year to one of my scouts. Thou shalt serve me still by convincing Turgon that all is well and the threat is gone. Gather others of like mind. Put weaknesses in the walls and in the people wherever thou canst and prepare the way for the Fall of Gondolin. I hope that thou can keep up pretenses."

"Believe me, I have worn a mask and hid my true self all of my life."

"Know this," Morgoth's tone became menacing. "Should thou fail to report or if the city is somehow forewarned, I shall know of it. Then thou shall be sought out and given to my Balrogs to be tortured daily for the rest of eternity! There is nothing worse than a turn cloak that double crosses his Master."

"You have no need for such threats, my lord," Maeglin answered. "You have given me more than I was ever promised from anyone else. I am yours."

Morgoth pierced him with his eyes and read his heart to remove all doubt of his loyalty. He was pleasantly surprised to discover that what Maeglin claimed was true. He had given his heart and soul to Morgoth. He willingly served Morgoth now and forever.

"I was told that thou were mining for ores alone in the mountains when captured. So that your long absence may be explained, I give thee these riches."

A sack of mithril, gold, and other precious ores was cast at Maeglin's feet. It was near bursting.

"My Master is indeed generous," Maeglin grinned.

"Indeed. Is there anything else before I send thee on thy way?"

"Oh yes!" Maeglin remembered suddenly. "I would like the same Orcs brought to me that dragged me here."

The Orcs entered, no doubt expecting some sort of reward. Maeglin drew his sword and glowered at them.

"Do you remember that I told you I was a valuable prisoner and you all laughed and did not believe me? Well, I serve the Master now. You will recall as well that I would count every grievance of mine against you? Well, I remember every bruise and fall. When I asked for water, you merely spat in my face. When I asked for food, I was kicked repeatedly in the stomach to make the pains of hunger worse. I asked for rest, I was licked with the whip."

As he spoke the Orcs began to whimper and tremble. They cried out to Morgoth for mercy. The Dark Lord merely watched with mild interest. Maeglin struck them down, butchering them until their black blood pooled upon the stone and nothing moved.

"Shall I give thee Men to escort thee back to Gondolin?" Morgoth offered.

"No," Maeglin replied. "I much prefer the company of Orcs."

Maeglin returned to Gondolin speedily with his small fortune and presented it to Turgon and spared much to the city itself. He also began to walk about the city with a smiling face and laughed easily. He snapped at his servants less and became pleasant even to Tuor.

At Council several days after his absence, Maeglin, for the first time, took a seat beside Tuor and spoke softly to him.

"How is my godson?" he asked.

"He kept us awake last night with a cough," Tuor answered, pleasantly surprised. "Idril and I feared it was the whooping cough, but he seems to have fully recovered. The healers could find nothing wrong this morning. We were quite relieved."

"That is good to hear," Maeglin said. "Tis the season for such coughing. Perhaps there was simply something in the air that did not agree with the child. I would inform the servants to wash his blankets and clothes well and keep his nursery as free of dust as possible. They say that silver has purifying qualities. Give the boy this rattle. It is merely coated in silver, but perhaps that will be enough. I would give him a ring or necklace if he were older. For now, let this gift from his Uncle suffice."

He handed Tuor the rattle. It was a very simple toy but coated in silver, just as he described, and still light enough for an infant to shake and play with.

"Thank you, my lord. It is a generous gift."

Maeglin's usual gifts for Earendel were blankets, sweets, and wooden caricatures, never anything as valuable as this rattle. Regardless of whether or not the old wives tale was true about the silver, Maeglin's concern for the babe's health was touching and seemed genuine.

"I feel that I have never properly apologized for some of the things I have said, Tuor," Maeglin clenched his jaw and grimaced. "Next time you pry yourself from the clutches of your wife and child, allow me to buy you a cup of hot wine to keep away the chill of the season?"

"Aye, I would very much like that, my lord," Tuor smiled. "There is nothing to forgive."

"You can call me by my name, kinsman," Maeglin found it incredibly easy to force his smile this time.

The people marveled that he had learned to curb his prejudice at last and found his new cheer quite refreshing. A few wondered what had happened to him to cause such a turn around. Most credited his new found claim in the mountains that he frequently returned to. The prince hinted that he was working upon another innovation like his father's galvorn or perhaps something stronger still than his previous steel. He felt he had a purpose to his life again and took joy in his work and admitted he had been unsatisfied before. He doted upon his godson in public and called Tuor his brother. King Turgon beamed with pride whenever he looked upon his nephew once more and regretted only that Maeglin had not yet taken a bride of his own. Some of the prince's former lovers wanted to give him a second chance and came calling at his door, but Maeglin did not seem interested in courtship. He was too engrossed in his upcoming masterpiece, he claimed, one that might require a lifetime of energy and work.

Idril found Maeglin's change in behavior highly suspicious. She wondered how he could have stumbled upon and amassed such wealth on his solitary trip, even if the stone had sung to him. He was secretive as always about his work so there was no proof of his so called 'masterpiece'. She caught him gazing at her more often with a predatory grin. Now that Maeglin knew it was only a matter of time before he could finally possess Idril and Gondolin, he was eager, bolder, and more confident in everything he did. It was easier than he thought it would be to play the part Morgoth assigned him.

"Soon," he told himself. "Soon everything I have ever wanted shall be mine."

While he was elated, Idril felt that a shadow had fallen over her heart yet no one else seemed disturbed and that frustrated her all the more.

Tuor and Idril were asleep in their bed. Earendel was in his cradle, sleeping soundly. But Tuor was awakened by the urge to relieve himself, then returned to bed. Now that he was awake he found it hard to doze off and he noticed that his wife was restless. Her sleeping habits had become erratic. She went days without getting a wink and then there were some days where she slept and woke only when Earendel cried and no one else could attend to him. Tonight she was tossing and turning. He realized she must be having a nightmare. He tried to shake her awake gently. As soon as he touched her, she screamed. She was screaming for him and for her son.

"Idril, I am here," he tried to soothe her. "It is all right. It was only a dream!"

She seemed to barely comprehend his words or her surroundings, "Where is our baby?"

Before he could answer she tried to leap from the bed and became entangled in the sheets and blankets. Struggling only entangled her more and she fell to the floor. Tuor rose and aided her out of her predicament and she rushed to Earendel's crib and lifted the babe to her breast. Luckily he had only stirred a little at the sound of his mother's cries and still slept, enjoying the warmth of his mother. Tuor placed his hand upon her shoulder and she sighed.

"I pray that his dreams are pleasant."

"Idril, what happened? Look at me."

He tried to look into her eyes but she kept her back to him. She feared if he saw the tears in her eyes she would break down sobbing. As long as no one saw them, they could not be seen as weakness. As long as no one saw, they did not exist. Tuor did not need to see. He could hear the distress in her voice and knew that when she was being evasive she was either on the verge of crying or had already begun.

"It must have been a terrible dream indeed to have done this to you," he said.

Idril hesitated. If she told him even a little, she would be forced to tell him all, no doubt. She placed Earendel back into his crib and began to explain, keeping her eyes low. She could not bear to look at Tuor. She had been hiding her feelings from her husband for too long now.

"You know of my thoughts of Maeglin, but you do not understand them. Well, in my nightmare, we stood together with Earendel upon the Caragdur. It is a cursed place that I would never be in waking life. Our only means of escape was blocked. It was there that Maeglin came upon us with his smiling face. He built a large and terrible furnace and the flames were scorching hot. The smoke and terrible heat overwhelmed us, but it did not harm Maeglin. He had full control of it. Bonds appeared upon my limbs and the smoke engulfed us all. Then Maeglin snatched up Earendel, our babe, and threw him inside the furnace. He just precariously tossed him into the flames! Then he shoved you in next as I stood witness to all this, completely helpless. Maeglin laughed, and even though that was the moment I awoke, I sensed that afterward he would have burned me alive too. For sorrow over the loss of you and that child, I would not have resisted."

Tuor was so disturbed that for a while he was speechless. "You fear Maeglin needlessly. He has never harmed us. He is family!"

"Needlessly!" now Idril was angry. "He is dangerous! He has wished you dead since first you came here. He hates our son and he will never grant me peace. He haunts my dreams. This is not the first time I have dreamed of him putting his hands upon me or hurting those I love. He even haunts my thoughts. He wants to rule Gondolin, the rest of the world, and he wants me."

"What do you mean he wants you? What do you mean he haunts you?"

Idril let out a strangled cry of rage and merely glared at Tuor. She loved this man with all her heart but sometimes she wished he was more observant. He was no more dense than anyone else in the city had ever been. She glared until slowly, painfully, Tuor began to comprehend.

"Maeglin wants you... But he is your own cousin!" Tuor was shocked and revolted. "How could he possibly have such feelings for you?"

"I have told you many times that he is twisted. In the name of Varda and Nienna, have you never noticed the looks he gives me or how I have ever reacted when he so much as brushed his hand upon mine?"

Tuor let out an anguished cry. Suddenly he remembered every instance Maeglin had harassed his wife. He remembered his japes and crude words at their wedding and the countless times he had witnessed Maeglin attempting to put his arms about Idril or to embrace her in friendly greeting, or take her hand, or rest his head upon her shoulder or breast, or plant a kiss upon her hair, cheek, or even the mouth, and how each time Idril had shaken him off or ignored him or turned away. What had he not been around to witness? How could he have dismissed the things he had seen or interpreted them any other way? If anyone should have noticed, it should have been him.

"I have been so blind!" Tuor said in despair. "My love, I have been such a fool..."

Idril raised her hand to silence him. It was certainly too late for useless apologies. Even if Tuor had noticed, it would have only made things worse. Tuor could not act against it, and Maeglin would have sensed Tuor's indignation and gained more pleasure in pursing Idril in what small ways he could.

"He has always been a subtle creature and for so long could do no wrong in the eyes of the people. That has changed little since then, and my father has not changed his opinion at all! He never reveals his true feelings, for they are always twisted. I hoped he would realize that his desire for me was some perverse thought that manifested in him when we lost Aredhel. I am enough like my Aunt that he may have seen some of what he lost in me. But I know now that it is not that simple. I felt uncomfortable the moment I saw him, hours before her death. If it was a madness brought on by grief, it would have passed by now. It never will."

"We must go to the king with this!"

"And say what?" Idril snickered. "That Maeglin would plot against you and wed me himself? He would not believe it and Maeglin would deny it. There is no evidence of anything I have told you. Lately Maeglin has become a hero to the people again and is back in my father's good graces. He never truly fell from his good graces anyway. We would only hurt ourselves."

"Surely if the two people he loves most cannot sway the king, what will? You and Turgon have been the ideal father and daughter these days. I thought he would never question you any more than he would question his nephew. He would never punish you for voicing your concerns."

"He does love you, Tuor, but he never heeded your warnings about Ulmo any more than he has ever heeded any of mine. I have gained my father's love and trust but I do not think it wise to test that and force him to choose between me and Maeglin. It would not be fair even if I was not almost certain he would choose Maeglin every time."

"Then what would you have me do?"

Idril thought upon that for a moment and replied, "We must prepare ourselves, not only against Maeglin, but whatever threat there is. Morgoth is the greater danger. I merely fear what Maeglin may do in the chaos created by the Dark Lord or that he will prey upon whatever instability there is in Gondolin to wrest power for himself and lead Gondolin to ruin when he becomes king. I will do whatever is in my power to prevent that. I advise then that you do what you have always done. Protect and serve my father and protect and love our son. But there is more we can do, and not just for ourselves. There are other little children in Gondolin and all the rest of the small folk to think of. Therefore, I suggest that you gather men about you that love you best and Maeglin the least. Among them should be a skilled architect. With his help, we shall build a secret tunnel that leads out of Gondolin. We shall name it the Children's Tunnel and it shall serve the people that they may be spared during the last moments before Gondolin falls. But its saving grace must be that it is kept secret until that time comes. Only those involved in its making should know. We may have little warning before the Enemy storms our gates, but it may be enough time to save many lives. Gondolin is impregnable, but it is also inescapable. The tunnel will give the defenseless ones a chance."

"Turgon-"

"Must not know!" Idril interrupted. "The fewer that know, the safer we will all be. I do not like keeping secrets any more than you do, especially from those that I love. It is also necessary to have your own Royal Guard as kinsman of the king. I shall get my father's favor to that. We currently have more servants than we should ever need. Surely he can spare guards."

Tuor groaned, "I do not want armed guards about me wherever I go. Do you not think that you might be reacting excessively?"

"Have you forgotten the words of Ulmo, Chosen One?" Idril's words dripped with sarcasm.

She sighed, realizing that she had taken undue offense. The two exchanged meaningful glances and apologized without words.

"Very well, Idril," Tuor conceded. "But such a tunnel may take years to dig."

"Let us hope that we have that much time then. And another thing, Maeglin has spies everywhere, but he can read much all on his own. I have always had to guard myself well so that he cannot sense my thoughts or feelings. It is as though I have a cloak upon my mind while others leave themselves bare. You are easy to read, Tuor. It is one of the reasons I love you, but such honesty and openness can be deadly. If you cannot cloak yourself as I do, not only will Maeglin be able to sense that you are hiding something and that you know as I do about his character, so will my father. My father will be hurt and demand we stop our work and complain that all we know of Maeglin is a mere misunderstanding. Maeglin will act against you and uncover whatever it is you are hiding. If you brim with anger whenever he comes near, he will return the hostility."

"I do not have your strength of will, Idril. I am but a mortal man."

"That has naught to do with it. You are of the House of Hador and now a prince in your own right two times over. You were enslaved once, but you did not allow the Easterlings to break you. You have strength of will, Tuor; you simply do not know how to use it to guard yourself. I can teach you. All you need is self-control and the ability to clear your mind."

"Will I be able to read others and foresee events as you can?"

"That is another matter that cannot be taught. I do not know rightly how I do it myself."

Earendel awoke and began to wail. Tuor smiled and kissed his wife.

"Sleep. I shall stay awake with him tonight."

Idril kissed him back and lay down to sleep, resting much easier now that she had finally confessed all to Tuor and that something was going to be done, even if they could not openly act against Maeglin and could not anticipate when Morgoth would strike. But Tuor stood vigilantly by her side and his son long after both fell asleep. He was angry and filled with doubt. He knew he would have to be more mindful of Maeglin now and he would have to choose his allies carefully. He once thought he could trust everyone in Gondolin. He would have liked to remain blissfully unaware, but he needed to protect his wife and child. But he also thought of Turgon. He began to feel a wedge growing between them that had never been there before. He wondered how much more he would be forced to hide from his king.

Tuor began to gather his closest friends in the city as soon as dawn broke and Idril spoke to her father about a guard for Tuor. She did not even get a chance to finish her sentence. Turgon immediately assigned soldiers to the House of the Swans. They were excellent swordsmen and each swore a personal vow to protect the next generation of the Royal Family. They had their own uniforms, shields, and distinct helms crested with swan wings. The King also gave them larger apartments within the palace closer to his own and kept his promise about visiting his grandson every day.

Idril utilized the bodyguards well. She made certain at least two were with her husband and son at almost all times. She had them test their food. Her greatest fear was that Maeglin would poison them, especially since Eöl had been so fond of poisons. But there was the possibility that that he might ambush them himself or send one of the poor fools he had corrupted to assassinate them. Tuor hated the unwanted company at first, but he agreed so that he could please his wife. As time passed, he became genuine friends with his men.

Voronwë was still his most trusted confidant, but there were many others that answered the call to aid Tuor. They consisted of about a dozen hardy Elves that were of mostly humble origin. Some of them were of the House of Swan and others included the smith Tuor turned to for repairs, their personal healer, and the rest included Engner and his workers. Naturally, Engner was essential to the whole project. Throughout his life he had studied Maeglin's movements and could identify the prince's allies and pinned those he was manipulating. There was much still he did not know. Maeglin by nature was scrupulous and calculating. It was his lackey Salagant that was not. Engner was also the main architect and took charge of the tunneling project. He ordered that the tunneling be done at night under cover of darkness and dug with small teams that would spend the night digging. These teams would be alternated as much as possible. The workers were sworn to secrecy and to Tuor's knowledge, the tunneling remained secret even from Maeglin's most observant moles.

Tuor was impressed with Engner's work. Despite such limitations and such uncertainty of the future, the tunnel was making fair progress. It would still take years until the tunnel reached into the plains, but Engner seemed as driven as Idril to finish as soon as possible without being exposed.

"You and my wife have always been rather close," Tuor said to him. "You were the lover of Lady Aredhel once and are staunchly loyal to King Turgon. So tell me: Why are you so devoted to all the members of the Royal Family save the one? What made you so suspicious of Maeglin?"

"I tried to love Maeglin, if only for Aredhel's sake," Engner answered slowly. "He is...uncanny. The moment I saw him I was struck by how much he resembled his mother, but something warned me that if even a small trace of his father was passed into him, he might be dangerous. I have watched him and have been disturbed by what I have been able to unravel about his past and his deeds within the city itself. I am sure by now you have come to discover some of it yourself."

"Aye," Tuor sighed. "I almost wish that I were oblivious."

Engner gave him a hard look, then softened and placed a hand upon his shoulder. "You must not allow Idril to suffer as Aredhel suffered. Promise me that you will do everything in your power to protect her. You may even be forced to fight Maeglin or break your oaths to Turgon."

"I pray it never comes to that!" Tuor was horrified at the thought.

"I failed to protect Aredhel from Eöl. Do not forget your boy either. Maeglin only profits if harm should befall him."

Tuor took Engner's words to heart, but he felt uneasy. Tuor was not so certain he could betray his liege lord. Even if Turgon took Maeglin's side and was clearly in the wrong, Tuor had sworn an oath and he had always kept his word. When Gondolin was attacked, he would fight at the king's side to defend it, even if it proved to be a lost cause. He loved his wife and son and had no desire for self-annihilation, but he loved Turgon too and his sense of duty was powerful. He anguished every day enough because they were willfully keeping Turgon ignorant.