CHAPTER XXXV

—Quellë—

"Are you sure you want to?" Glorfindel asked as we stood before the door of the tavern we had gone to on the first day of Coirë.

"Yes," I told him. "I'm quite sure of it, Laurefindil," using his Quenya ataressë to make a point.

"If you must, my Lady," he said, only partly jesting as he held to door open for me.

Only a few of Glorfindel's friends were there, including Dínaelin and Naergon, and I seated myself a comfortable distance from the latter, next to Dínaelin; Glorfindel sat across from me, obnoxiously making his chair screech against the floor, evidently for some obscure purpose.

"Lady Híthriel," Dínaelin greeting me. "Would you care for some wine?"

"Well met again, Dínaelin," I returned. "What kind of wine is it?"

"Sindarin, I believe," he said.

"I think I would prefer Noldorin wine," I told him, "or something more exquisite, like Maian or Valarian wine."

Dínaelin chuckled at the jest, calling over the bartender. "Two bottles of Noldorin wine, please."

"Two?" I said when the bartender had left. "I'm not all too sure I can drink that much."

"I will take it gladly, if you cannot," Glorfindel interjected.

"No," I said, "don't you dare. I don't want to have to drag you back again."

"I can't deny you enjoyed it," he said shrugging.

"I doubt you'll mind if I take it, Lady Híthriel," Naergon said, the title almost mocking. "I have quite a high tolerance, don't you agree, Neldonwë?" He jerked his chin at the ellon across from him.

"Forgive me, my Lady, but I have to say it is true," the one called Neldonwë said.

"No matter," I said. "You may gladly have it if I grow weary of it, if that's all right with you, Dínaelin, because you are, in fact, buying."

"I don't mind," Dínaelin said as the bartender returned with the wine. "Noldorin wine for all to share."

The talk was light and polite, as if none of the previous events had ever occurred. The one called Neldonwë seemed to be nice enough, although it was hard to discern because everyone, including Naergon, was playing nice.

When a few hours had passed, Naergon stood from his chair. "I seem to have a thought for some fresh air. Lady Híthriel, would you mind joining me?"

They all looked at me as I stood also. "Of course, Lord Naergon," and he winced at the title. "It would be to my greatest pleasure."

"We may return late, so feel free to leave if you grow weary," Naergon said, placing a hand on my shoulder and steering me out of the door.

For a while we walked upon the quiet streets of Gondolin under the glittering stars, neither speaking a word. Then at last he spoke again, in a soft voice of reconciliation.

"I'm sorry about what I did the other day," he told me.

I could have been but a little taken aback. "It's all right. I have to say, I am quite used to that by now."

"But it doesn't make it all right."

"I can forgive you for it, thought," I said. "I can understand how you felt—how you likely still feel."

"You are a kind elleth, Híthriel," he said. "You must be tired; we've been walking for so long. There's a small taproom over there where we can rest."

Frankly, I was not tired at all, but followed him to a table where he called for a beer.

"I generally don't like beer," I said, "but I'd be willing to try."

He smiled. "That's good. I heard you were the one that brought the news of Doriath to Gondolin."

"I did. Where did you here?"

"Some lords were talking at Tarnin Austa, and I overheard," Naergon told me.

"Interesting. Which House are you of, Naergon?" I inquired.

"None," he said. "I am of the commonfolk. Look, here comes the drinks."

I watched a raven waddling around outside as he stirred them then handed a glass to me.

"Enjoy," he told me as I lifted it to my lips and took a sip.

"Hm," I said, lowering the glass. "Why do you want to poison me, Naergon?"

He appeared to be more irritated than anything as he masked his horror. "I expected you to have passed out by now."

"I'd say my immune system is quite good with. . .poisons," I said casually. "Do you still hate me so much?"

"Evidently," he said, his voice clipped. "What the hell are you?"

"A simple Noldo, whose immune system, as I said, is stronger than most." In truth I was beginning to feel a lightheadedness wash over me.

"As I said, your kind are all monsters," he spat. "You have no place with us here."

"I apologize that you think this way," I told him, rising from my seat. "Forgive me, I must be going. Have a spectacular night, Naergon. Farewell."

I was outside when he caught up to me.

"No, you can't leave. I'm sorry that I did all this. I didn't want—" he sighed. "I didn't want to do this."

I glanced at him and kept on walking.

"Damn it," he growled, preparing to strike, yet before he could I had landed five punches upon his abdomen and a kick that sent him sprawling to the ground.

"I didn't want to do that," I said breezily, and stalked away.

I was still wandering in the streets of Gondolin when I saw Maeglin and Itarillë before me, the former clutching the latter's arm much too harshly. Itarillë was trying to pull away but his grip was relentless, and striding forward, I shoved Maeglin back, wrenching his hands off Itarillë. "Lay your hands off her, Lord Mole."

"Why, if it isn't Lady Híthriel," he drawled.

"It is. I don't know what the fuck it is you think you're doing, but don't you dare speak to me again. For once I thought you were better than how the others speak of you, but no more."

Maeglin laughed. "Suddenly so sure of yourself?"

"You're just like your father, Lord Maeglin. If you would join me on a walk, Lady Idril," I said, turning away.

"Gladly," she said, and we strode away together.

—Hrívë—

It almost felt like that day I escaped the mines of Angband with Saerin and Silivros and returned to Himring, standing in the snow and knowing the cold was there yet not quite feeling it. I stood before a fountain in the Way of Running Waters, garbed in a thin cloak and my hair unbound like how Mae liked it. The ice was so smooth, its surface unscratched, unmauled, as it had only formed tonight, but in time it would crack and fall, then melt into all the rest.

I knew that Glorfindel was behind me, but waited to see when he would speak; it was interesting to learn the manners of others by simply observing. But when he spoke, the voice was stern, not like his usual lilt of speech.

"Híthriel, you can't stay in this cycle forever," he said. "It's been a year."

"Only a ninth of a year, if measured in Valinorean years, which should be custom to you. I won't live until forever."

"Which ellon were you planning to sleep with tonight, Híthriel? I know you've gone through enough by the time I've been there."

"I was thinking of this elleth, actually," I said. "I like both ellyn and ellith, did you know? But I've never had an elleth before."

"I'm surprised they didn't have Thuringwethil fuck you in Angband."

I laughed. "Oh they did, but she doesn't count. She was a Maia. Did I tell you that I killed her? I did, shortly before the Battle of Tumhalad and the Fall of Nargothrond. It was quite a joy."

"Pleasant to know," he said, choking on his words. "I thought you were together with Nelyo."

I barked a scornful laugh. "After the Kinslaying? No. Even after the Bragollach it was strained. How could I ever want to be touched anymore after that?"

"You are now."

"I wish I couldn't, I wasn't, I'm trying to—" I sighed exasperatedly. "I don't know what I'm saying. Please leave me alone."

He didn't move. "It breaks me, Hith, to watch you like this."

"Oh, I'm sure it does."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Many things; some you know."

He was shaking his head. "I can't do this. I'm making you babysit Eärendil."

"What?"

"Idril already approved."

"Ha. Very amusing."

"Is it?" Glorfindel said. "Then I am glad. I shall be seeing you soon." With nothing more he spun upon his heel and made to depart, but I spoke again.

"Are you trying to make me conform with society? With all the Gondolindrim here?"

"I'm trying to help you," he said, not turning.

"Are you trying to make them stop calling me those things, some before me, some when they think I am not listening? Do you know what I said to the last one that called me a whore? Who said they ever paid me, I said to him. He liked my audacity and invited me to his bed. I like ruined ellith, he told me."

He did not move, but stood motionless, still with his back to me.

"I struck him, but he only laughed, so I did it again. He tried fucking me until I beat his face bloody, and even then he still laughed." The snow was bitingly cold upon my face, stinging the bare skin and whirling around me. "Sometimes I wish you understood, Laurefindil."

"I do," he said quietly, his voice breaking a little. Because he knew it wasn't true.

I shook my head. "You can say that as many times as you will, but you will never know."

—Lairë—

It was Tarnin Austa once again, in the year 509, and all was the same; merry dances and joyful toasts, but I noticed that Maeglin was not present and wondered if he was working on his smithcraft and mining. Nonetheless I did not know, not until later.

—Yávië—

I was sitting unmoving in front of the abandoned piano, staring at the dusty keys. A faint wind breezed through the broken window pane, brushing some dust off the surface. Dead leaves stirred upon the ground, some shimmering as they caught the light.

I turned. "Lord Rôg."

"Lady Híthriel," he returned. "Lord Ecthelion told me I would find you here."

"What is it you would like to speak of?" I said, prompting him to speak.

"The leaves can be stunningly beautiful when they catch the light." He was gazing at the branch peeking into the chamber.

"Yes," I said. "They really can be."

"I wept when I saw trees again after Angband," Rôg told me. "I thought I would never see the light of day again."

"Hm." I sat motionless, staring at the golden leaves that seemed to glow in the sunset. That may have been true for my first return from Angband, but perhance not the second one.

"Yet after that it was difficult to return to my old life in Gondolin. But I told myself I wanted to live again. Not survive idly, waiting for change to happen upon me," he said. "For long I had dwelt in disquiet, numb to all else, but no more. No more, I told myself. No more."

"No more," I repeated. "Tell me, Lord Rôg, are you wary of me?"

"Why would you ask such a question?" he inquired.

"They seem to be," I told him. "They all seem to be wary of me, perchance because I am of them."

He smiled sardonically. "That you know."

"Are you?" I asked again.

"Not the slightest," he said, "but I daresay the others have a right to be."

Now it was my time to smile, the curve of my lips disdainful. "Ah, yes, certainly."

"They still fear me, after so long," Rôg said. "They fear those different from them, do they not?"

"As might be expected."

—Coirë—

The night before I dreamt that all were alive and whole again, and those that had fallen into darkness had come back into the light. A feast was being held, and Finno chatted merrily with Iri as Tyelko attempted to steal her cup of wine. Káno was conducting a string quintet as Telvo listened on, smiling, and Moryo was dancing with Haleth, regularly tripping over his feet, his face growing more crimson at every moment. Artanis was arguing with Findaráto, most likely a debate on the percent of alcohol in Sindarin wine versus Noldorin wine, according to the words that I overheard. Turvo and Curvo were also arguing, although the former was slightly more polite than the latter intended to be.

I almost smiled at the thought as I walked down the corridors of Gondolin, yet upon remembering the memory of the desolation of Hithlum, what it now was, the thought faded. Itarillë and Glorfindel had put me on a weekly demise on babysitting Eärendil, who was now a boisterous young boy of seven, and I was going there now to tutor him on Ancient Gnomish Literature. Surely it could not be my fault if he did not like the topic; Tuor had chosen it after all.

Maeglin was walking down the corridor toward me. Attempting not to be too rude and visibly walk faster, I subtly picked up my pace, striding forward. Unfortunately he mirrored me and angrily I spun around to face him.

"What do you want now? I told you to get out of my business and here you are, slithering back to me."

"Híthriel, you have to help me. Please."

"No," I growled, breaking away from his grip. "You have done enough to me."

"Please. You need to listen to me—"

"I don't need to do anything for you," I said. "Farewell, Lord Maeglin." I stalked away down the corridor, and did not look back.

Eldarin References:

Quellë. (Q) Autumn/fading. 54 days and runs from about the end of September to the latter part of November. Alternative Quenya name — Lasse-lanta, or 'Leaf-fall' (S. Firith and Narbeleth).

Hrívë. (Q) Winter. (S. Rhîw). One of the two long seasons, lasting 72 days. Latter part of November through to the end of January.

Lairë. (Q) Summer (S. Laer). 72 days long, the latter part of May through to the beginning of August.

Yávië. (Q) Waning of Summer and transition into Autumn (S. Iavas). 54 days long and begins around the start of August and ends near the latter part of September.

Coirë. (Q) Stirring [coming to life] (S. Echuir). Marks the end of Winter and beginning of Spring. 54 days and lasts from the beginning of February through to the latter part of March.