YEARS OF THE SUN
FIRST AGE 496

Minorniel lay back against his strong shoulders as golden leaves drifted into their room from the terrace and the soft fall breeze played with her hair just as his fingers twirled the strands around them. His thumb brushed across her collarbone, fingers trailing up her neck to gently lift her chin up. Her eyes locked with his warm golden ones and Glorfindel dropped his head and caressed her lips with his own. Minorniel grinned into their kiss and twisted in his arms to press her lips more firmly against his and thread her fingers through his hair. His arms locked behind her back, pulling her fully into his embrace and leaning back into the pillows of their bed.

Giggling, Minorniel sat up, touching her forehead to his, enveloping them in a curtain of rayed hair. He cupped her cheek in his palm and stared contentedly into her eyes, making her blush a gorgeous shade of pink. She rolled off of him and walked out onto their terrace, casting a coy glance over her shoulder, bright fall leaves drifted onto her bare feet from the surrounding trees, lit brilliantly by the rising sun just becoming visible over the mountains. The valley of Gondolin was beautiful and peaceful, a hidden shelter as the rest of the world fell underneath the shadow of the Dark Lord. A sense of foreboding washed over her as she wondered how long the peace would last, but she quickly brushed the thought aside. Today was to be a happy day of celebration. Minorniel smiled as she felt Glorfindel's arms encircle her waist gently and felt his chin tuck into the curve between her neck and shoulder. Strands of golden hair fell over her shoulders and she twirled them in her fingers as they were lit brilliantly by the rising sun.

"When shall we announce our marriage?" He asked her and Minorniel felt a rush of giddiness at the mention of it. She could still feel soreness between her legs from where they had made love the night before. To elves there was no difference between sex and marriage, Glorfindel had made her his bride last night and she had made him her husband; she couldn't be happier. Twisting in his arms she stared adoringly into his warm eyes and smiled at him.

"I don't want to take away from their wedding day, let us wait at least until the morrow." She answered and he nodded in understanding.

"When do you leave to attend her?"

"I should go now," she admitted with a grin, rising on her toes to kiss Glorfindel one last time before leaving his arms. She wandered through the halls of Gondolin, her bare feet gliding silently across the marble floors. She was to help Celebrindal prepare for her wedding this very day. The daughter of the High King Turgon had grown extremely close to her over the years she had resided here and Minorniel counted her as her closest friend among the elleths of Gondolin. When the man Tuor had arrived in Gondolin a year ago, Celebrindal and he had fallen immediately in love. Had Tuor not come to be seen as a son by Turgon, Minorniel wondered what would have come of the love between the human and elleth. Fortunately, their marriage had been blessed by the High King and Minorniel couldn't be happier for her friend.

The King's Tower was the tallest of the towers in Gondolin and Minorniel felt incredibly small as she entered it and made her way to the private springs where she was to meet Celebrindal. Hot springs and bubbling rivers were common in the city but the King was the only one who had a private spring. Oftentimes Celebrindal and Minorniel would frequent the public baths which was more fun with many other Elleths around, but today a private spring was more appropriate. She spotted the lithe figure of her friend already sitting on the edge of the bath, her hair twisted up so as not to get wet, her lower legs submerged in the water. Celebrindal's golden hair shone beautifully in the humidity of the room and Minorniel wondered what her mother must have looked like, for surely Celebrindal was her exact replica. Turgon was dark and thin and tall while Celebrindal was average height, full bosomed, and fair-haired. Indeed, Minorniel found herself often being confused as Turgon's daughter by those who had never seen Celebrindal, bearing more resemblance to the High King than his daughter did.

Minorniel quickly disrobed and joined her friend in the spring. Celebrindal turned a beautifully joyous smile upon her and began to talk excitedly of the wedding while Minorniel gently brushed perfumed oils through her golden hair. She spoke of how Tuor was to become the head of a new house in Gondolin once they wed and that her father would give them many great soldiers for their guard. Minorniel helped her wash her back and dry off as they exited the baths when Celebrindal glanced at her sharply as if just noticing a change in her friend, her surprised look breaking into a smile.

"When were you to tell me that this was also your wedding day?" She asked slyly and Minorniel blushed. She should have known it would be impossible to keep her coupling with Glorfindel a secret, the elves had a sixth sense about whether an elf was claimed by another or not. Elves remained completely committed to their partner so it was advantageous for elves to know who was available and who wasn't.

"I did not want to take away from your own wedding," she admitted shyly and Celebrindal embraced her warmly.

"I am so happy for you, I've been waiting for this for almost fifteen years" Celebrindal reassured her, "You'll have to give me pointers for tonight."

Minorniel turned a delicate shade of red at Celebrindal's wink and the elleth laughed, pulling her from the baths so that they could get dressed.

Turgon's eyes were full of tears at the sight of his daughter in her beautiful light green dress, the color of budding leaves in springtime, long train splayed out behind her and hair intricately braided and adorned with jewels and a beautiful circlet around her head. The girl who had materialized in his city fifteen years ago stood beside his daughter like her shadow and avoided his gaze. Turgon knew he made her nervous which had never been his intent, but he could not help examining her closely every time he saw her. Many of the Noldor looked similar, as they were all very distantly related, but Minorniel bore a striking resemblance to his own house, she was almost a female version of his youngest brother Argon who had been slayed in the Battle of Lhammoth just after they had come to Arda. Every time he was around her he had to shrug off his suspicions and remind himself that she was just some elleth who had likely come from one of the other groups of elves at the Battle of Unnumbered Tears that Glorfindel had taken a liking to.

"Ada," Celebrindal greeted him with a grin and a soft kiss on his cheek to which Turgon grinned happily, returning her kiss and taking her arm.

"You look radiant, I wish your mother was here to see this."

"As do I ada," she replied as he led her outside to the King's Courtyard amid the cheering of crowds and the sound of music. The marriage of the High King's daughter was attended and celebrated by all of Gondolin this day. Minorniel remained in the shadows of the archway, happily watching her friend descend towards the man who would be her husband. She glanced over as the tall figure of Rog, Lord of the House of the Hammer of Wrath joined her. He had long ruddy gold hair tied back with a black ribbon and was very tall and well-muscled even for an elf. His tunic pulled tightly across his firm chest and his red robes made him appear even more imposing. Rog smiled at her and she smiled back shyly, taking his offered arm, he was good friends with Glorfindel and they would frequently spar together, but Minorniel was still intimidated by him. She had recently begun learning the art of swordfighting by him and Glorfindel. Unlike the edain there was not as great a distinction between male and female elves in strength, though it remained more traditional for the males to fight than the elleths. But in this time of darkness and war, many elleths were becoming learned in the arts of war, if only to defend themselves and their families.

"Congratulations on your marriage, Minorniel." He said softly to her and she flushed slightly at his attentions.

"I thank you, sir." She smiled, her shyness unable to last long under his authentic smile.

After Celebrindal had joined her betrothed beneath an arch of yellow celandine, Minorniel and Rog stood at the side of the bride and groom as their honorary witnesses. Rog and Tuor had grown close over the past year and had been asked to stand at his side for his wedding day. Celebrindal and Tuor clasped hands while Turgon recited vows in the high speech. Minorniel found it refreshing to listen to the beautiful Quenya phrases which was the type of speech used in Valinor. Among the elves of Arda Sindarin was spoken more frequently, but hearing Quenya reminded her of home.

"With this ribbon, I Turukano, weave together your hearts, that you may be tied together eternally," Turgon stated as he wound a long violet ribbon around their clasped hands. Upon it was embroidered Turukano, his ataresse, for in ceremonies of deep bonding such as this the three witnesses would use their father-names.

"With this ribbon, I Nambquarë, weave together your bodies, that you may be tied together eternally," Rog said, stepping forward to wind a crimson ribbon around their hands.

"With this ribbon, I Thurichel, weave together your minds, that you may be tied together eternally." Minorniel completed the bonding of the witnesses. She was so busy wrapping her black ribbon around their entwined hands that she was not aware of the sharp look that Turgon gave her when she said her ataresse. He was so taken aback by her name that he nearly forgot the concluding blessing he had prepared for his daughter and her new husband.

Turgon tried to focus on the vision of his daughter and Tuor as they walked towards the newly built accommodations for their new House amid the joyous celebrations of his people. But his mind and eyes kept returning to the form of the dark-haired elf, standing in the background and smiling at the spectacle. In his mind his own words resounded over and over again 'Be gone from here, and keep this child of yours a secret from the world. She will be his undoing and his death'. He tried to convince himself that Thurichel, this 'secret daughter', was not the child of 200 years ago, but he could not fool himself so completely. She was the right age, and she so resembled the line of his father that it was nearly impossible for her to be of a different lineage. Was he truly looking at the bastard daughter of the deceased High-King Fingolfin? Did he behold at last, his own half-sister, whose mother he had driven from Gondolin when he had learned of her pregnancy?

A sharp horn blast cut through his thoughts and his eyes moved quickly to the tower of the watch. Cries of fear went up from some assembled and Celebrindal's eyes searched for his, nervousness written across them. Turgon clenched his fists in worry as a messenger ran towards him, all were silent. He could feel the nearly palpable question of those around him, 'had Morgoth found them at last?'

"What news?" he asked the panting messenger sharply.

"Refugees from Nargothrond. Hundreds of them. The forces of the Angband have razed the city to the ground." Turgon's heart clenched sharply at the news, Nargothrond was the last free elven city apart from Gondolin.

"Bring them inside the gates," he commanded. "And find word of my nephew."