Hi guys!
So, this time I could upload two chapters.
First of all, I want to thank Celridel for her immense help editing this story. Also I want to thank d'elfe, Ducking Cute, idonthaveaname and Backstreet Girl for their reviews.
In this chapter a couple of things very, VERY interesting will happen between Glorfindel and Laura; and we will return to the other couple: Maeglin and Alassë.
Also, we will know Laura's fate after her soldier training.
Waiting for your reviews, guys!
Chapter 51: If Music Be the Food of Love
Those who saw Prince Maeglin looked at him with more curiosity than usual. He was walking fast, moving away from the Training Field, his slender height emphasized by his tense posture. In truth, he seemed so tense as to be a violin string, tuned to the ultimate octave.
As a part of the Council, he had been expected to be at the Field, where Laura would begin her work.
Flashback to earlier this morning
The High King rarely went abroad in Gondolin, as his time was consumed with ruling the City. As such, he had become more legend than man, and when the Gondolindhrim realized that their King was to be among them, the news spread like fire through gunpowder.
The Lords had also been well-received, and Maeglin received as well as ever. He had returned their well-meaning, curious smiles like the unwanted gifts they were, and ignored the whispers. They no longer had any power to disturb him. Somewhere in the city, was a pretty Sinda, who could see the good in everything, and he intended to go find her as soon as he could.
The freshest batch of recruits was gathered in the Field, and the King raised his staff for silence.
"Stand at ease, recruits," he said in a hearty voice. "I see you are ready to begin your training, and I wish you the best of luck. Do well, and you will be able to defend your home against the most skilled of foes. I have faith in you all."
There was a murmur of appreciation.
"Some changes will be made," the King continued once it died down. "Your new trainer, Laura Kinney, will make all the adjustments she deems appropriate."
A heavy silence fell, so thick it was almost tangible. Laura, standing beside Glorfindel, was the cynosure of every eye.
"Do you have any words, Laura Kinney?" Turgon asked, turning to the face the woman.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," she replied, stepping down from the dais and towards a barrel, where several hefty oak staves were housed. She picked one up and tossed it to a tall ellon, who had curled his lip when at the King's announcement.
"You. What is your name?"
The ellon, his grey gaze frosted over with contempt, said, "Alachon."
"Well, Alachon, here is your weapon."
The ellon held the stave in his hand, shuttling it through his fingers so it spun effortlessly in his grasp.
"You have three attempts to beat me. If you even touch me with that stave, you will be the winner," Laura continued. "I will be without weapons, and I will not return your blows until your three tries are up." Alachon looked undecided but stepped out towards Laura. He moved fast, lunging out towards her with a neat jab at her chest. Laura leaned backward, the stave passing a hairsbreadth away from her chest.
First try," she said. "Come on. I know you can do better. Here, how about this? I'll fold my arms behind my back."
This time Alachon made a jab at her lower belly but Laura pirouetted easily away.
Before she had time to speak, Alachon was lunging at her, feinting to confuse her, but Laura moved calmly.
"Well, time's up," she said. "It's my turn, and I bet I can beat you with just one attack."
Almost faster than his eyes could track the motion, Laura kicked the ellon in the face, knocking him to the ground. She stood with her foot on his chest, a metal claw pointed at his jugular.
"I could kill you," Laura said easily. "But I like you too much." She leaned down and helped him up. "Go wash the blood off your face. Red's not your color."
She switched her gaze to a wide-eyed elleth, extending the claws out of her right hand. "Would you like a try too?"
The elleth shook her head.
"Very well. Unless his Highness says otherwise, we will begin once our friend Alachon has cleaned the blood off."
"Yes, madame," the recruits chorused.
A few of the Elf-Lords smiled. These recruits would suffer at the woman's hands, but they would be true soldiers.
End of Flashback
Maeglin had been standing at the opposite end of the royal dais, away from Turgon. It had only been when the Lords were readying themselves to leave that he had seen Idril by her father's side, talking quietly to him. Dressed in a garment white and delicate as hemlock, she was a portrait of artless, unaffected beauty, filled with sunlight.
Maeglin's breath had caught in his throat, and he had taken a few steps towards her. He could sense her awareness of him, but before she could turn her blue, too-deep gaze on him, he had turned and fled, in fear that the strange magic Idril exerted over him would overcome him.
His smithy was a large building, separate from the palace. Although it had many windows, it was surrounded by a thick grove of blue pine, so there were many shadows.
He smelled flowers as soon as he stepped in, a strangely charming odor, so different from the normal smell of coal and pine and dust. A glass vase, filled with hyacinths was sitting on his anvil, the flowers snow-white.
"Alassë? Are you in here?" he called, stepping in.
"Of course!"
He saw her deep in the forge, fumbling through his tools to uncover a lantern. She turned to greet him with a bright smile, intoxicatingly happy and sweet.
Alassë had begun to care for him, not as a mother, but as a close friend. She was a patient teacher, and slowly, had begun to remove the curtains he had put up behind his eyes.
Her warmth could melt midwinter snow, her smile could heal grievous wounds, her words could calm an angry ocean. None knew how to bring peace to Eöl's son like the lovely-haired Sinda.
"Pardon my tardiness," he said with an answering smile. "I was held up by the King."
"You are a Prince, after all," Alassë said, bringing over the lantern and placing it by the flowers.
"Yes," Maeglin agreed. "And did you hear the news?"
Alassë smiled. "Who has not? The King has decided to let an Adan train the recruits. Do you know why?"
Maeglin shrugged. "The Princess advised him too, I believe."
"I see," Alassë said, looking away. At times she feared Maeglin was still in love with his cousin, but her concern dissipated almost instantly because Maeglin flew past Idril, asking instead, "How have you been faring, Alassë? I see you brought me a gift."
Alassë laughed, gesturing towards the flowers. "Yes! The hyacinths. They are my favorite flower."
Maeglin leaned down to smell them. "I understand why. And you have exquisite timing, for I have something for you." He reached into his jerkin and took out a square of cloth, green as new-hatched leaves.
"Maeglin, I do not need gifts. Your friendship is more than enough."
The Prince smiled, giving the parcel to her. "And your friendship is more than enough for me, but I enjoy giving you gifts, Alassë."
Alassë turned the parcel over in her hands, then pulled the cloth off. It was a delicate, rose-gold bangle, a crimson bezel rose on one side, a butterfly with emerald-encrusted wings on the other.
Maeglin smiled expectantly at her. "Well? Do you like it?"
The Sinda wrapped her arms around him, her golden head only coming to his chest. "Maeglin, how could I not? It is so beautiful."
On other occasions, the Prince would have frozen, unsure how to respond to such unnecessary displays of affection. But not now: not after Alassë's gentle guidance. Hesitatingly, he wrapped his sturdy arms around Alassë and pulled her slightly towards him. He had come to understand that displays of affection made her happy in the way nothing else could.
Alassë closed her eyes in content. Her labor was finally paying off: her dream finally coming true. When at last she broke Maeglin stared at her with confused hurt, thinking he had failed in some aspect, but her smile calmed him. He had done well, and he found it filled with him a strange joy.
"Will you put it on for me?" Alassë asked, holding out the bangle.
Maeglin nodded, but, to his chagrin, his hands began to tremble when they touched her skin.
The heartbeat of silence between the two felt long. Maeglin found himself sinking beneath the waves of her ocean-blue eyes, flecked with every color of the sea. There was a glow in her eyes, one he had seen more and more of late, but he still did not know what to name it.
"You are very special to me, Maeglin," Alassë said in a low voice. "Your gifts are special, but you are more so."
Maeglin smiled at her, trying to return her openness. "You are very special to me. You have so much life in you. So much..." He trailed off.
Alassë's eyes grew brighter, the strange glow more pronounced. "Am I really so special to you?"
"You are," he assured firmly.
"Only that?"
Maeglin frowned at her. Had he not said enough? What had he missed?
"Because for me, it is different," she said, lowering her gaze. Her voice was hesitating, almost as if she were afraid to allow her words into the world. "I...I love you, Maeglin. Very much."
Time and space seemed to contract, into a dot as fine as a needlepoint, crushing him into a tiny, frozen space. He tried to remember how to breathe, his tongue numb with shock.
Love. And what was that? His mother had never desired children. Her affection was a tough, cold thing, and she called him Lómion in secret. To Aredhel he had always been the Child of the Twilight, never the child of the proud, fierce-faring huntress who loved sunlight. His father had not even graced him with a name until he was twelve. And the love between Eöl and Aredhel? What had that been? Possession? Enchantment? An unlikely, chancy bond between a reckless Princess with a taste for danger and a shadow-dwelling craftsman who craved light?
He understood love in an intellectual sense, but on a visceral level, he was clueless. He searched his mind and found it gave him no answer. Then he searched his heart and found surprise and a slow, shy joy. So, he responded in answer to his heart, taking Alassë's chin so she could see his face, and smiling at her.
"Do you love me, Maeglin?"
That question left him confused and, this time, he could not find the answer, even in his heart.
He thought of Idril. An unattainable star, standing on a crystal hill, far out of his reach.
But Alassë? Alassë was not a Princess on a glass hill? Alassë was by his side, in his reach and he was immensely grateful for it. But was that...love?
He remembered a definition of love he had read once: Love leads you to do the best for your beloved. If that was true, Alassë surely loved him. And what about him? He did not know. Most likely yes, but he was not certain.
"I...I guess so," he said looking away. He felt like he was walking in quicksand, where if he took one wrong step, he would lose that beautiful elleth forever. He closed his eyes. "Maybe. Yes, I think so."
Delicate lips were on his. His eyes flew open, and he stared at Alassë, who had stood on tiptoe to kiss him.
Fearful of ruining the moment, he leaned down and gave her a fleeting, awkward kiss, so shyly that Alassë giggled and kissed his cheek, which he was able to return more easily.
The Sinda hugged him again and he hugged her back, calmer now that he was back in territory he already understood.
Alassë closed her eyes. Maeglin had not exactly returned her confession: he had said he 'thought' he loved her. He was still too analytical, trying to force logic into matters of emotions, but she had no doubts that one day soon, he would understand love, and one that day, they would both be truly happy.
Six Months Later...
Just as the Princess had foreseen, Laura had shown herself to be an excellent drillmaster. She was tough, demanding, severe, but she taught her recruits well, and eventually had managed to earn their respect.
Laura showed no favoritism, but she cared deeply for the future soldiers placed under her charge, which was why her demands were so harsh. Daily, she forced them into intense training from dawn to dusk, and at times, she would wake them in the middle of the night. At first, the Elf Lords had thought Laura's teach methods brutal, but over time, it became clear that this well-channeled severity was achieving great goals.
' Where we start is where we end
We step out sweetly, nothing planned
Along by the river we feed bread to the swans
And then over the footbridge to the woods beyond
We walk ourselves weary, you and I
There's just this moment
I light a campfire away from the path
We lie in the bluebells, a woodpecker laughs
Time passes slowly our hearts entwined
All of the dark times left behind
The day is done
The sun sinks low
We fold up the blanket, it's time to go
We walk ourselves weary, arm in arm
Back through the twilight
Home again
We waltz in the moonlight and the embers glow
So much behind us
Still far to go.'
"Do you sing to the Moon?" a male voice suddenly said as the last chord was lost in midair.
Laura turned and looked down. Glorfindel was standing in the garden, smiling up at her.
"No," she replied. "The only song I know about the moon is very morbid."
"Why so?"
"It's about the death of a woman. The author had just married, and his wedding night he took his new wife out for a swim. At first, the sea seemed calm, but suddenly it became very strong and carried her away. He tried to save her, but it was impossible, and the new bride drowned on her wedding night."
"That is tragic!" Glorfindel exclaimed.
"Yeah," Laura agreed. "They found her body the next day. The author was famous, so the story began national news. He went into depression but then decided to write a song to cope with his pain. So, he wrote ' Caraluna'."
"I would like to hear it," said the half -Vanya at last.
Laura gestured for him to climb up to where she was sitting, on the roof of the cottage. Once he was seated next to her, Laura began to sing.
"I don't understand," said the Elf-lord once she was finished. "The song sounds so happy."
"The author thought he should write something happy, to distract from his own sadness. The song is from a Latin American country, and that culture has a very different way of dealing with death."
Glorfindel looked at her for a moment. "At times I have no clue what you are saying."
Laura smiled. "That's good. Speaking cryptically is always a good skill."
Glorfindel laughed. "And the song you were singing when I arrived?"
"Oh! It's a love song," Laura replied, feigning boredom. "I haven't played it for a while, but I didn't want to forget it."
"I didn't know that Love caught your attention."
"It doesn't interest me at all."
Glorfindel looked at her curiously. "Why not?"
"It's not very convenient for someone like me," she said indifferently, but the truth stung deep inside.
"Laura, you cannot-"
Laura stopped him with a quick chop of her hand, her face going cold. "Let's not start. If you want to stay, we don't talk about my past. If not, you can go back to the palace."
Glorfindel realized he had taken a misstep and fell silent. Laura played arpeggios; her gaze distant. Finally, the half-Vanya said, "I brought you a gift."
Laura turned to face him, her annoyance clear. "A gift?"
"Yes. Close your eyes."
"Oh wow!"
"Laura," he pleaded. "It is a surprise."
Laura sighed then did as he asked.
"Hold out your hand," he ordered gently.
She did and felt something metallic deposited in her palm. She opened her eyes instantly and saw the emblem of the House of the Golden Flower, an empty circle with a celandine flower in the center, wrought of gold.
"You can wear it on your belt," Glorfindel explained. "Perhaps the King did not allow you to enter my House, but to me, you are a part of the Golden Flower."
Laura's face softened, her mouth open with surprise. Then she arranged her features, holding back the hug she had wanted to give him. If she did, he would know what she was feeling, and their friendship would be over. So instead, she looked at the medallion for a long time. "Thank you, my Lord. Laura Kinney is at your service, any time."
Glorfindel smiled at her. "I know. I've always known."
Laura's breath caught in her throat. Helpless to show her love and appreciation in any other way, she picked up her guitar again and began to play and sing 'On Horseback.' After a minute, Glorfindel picked up the tune and sang with her, as they had not done for many years.
When they finished, Laura smiled at him. Her eyes were shining, and Glorfindel suddenly saw how wrong he had been to think her homely.
On the contrary, she had a beauty in her, a beauty that went beyond words because it was not seen with the eyes, but with the heart.
And in that moment, he realized that he, Glorfindel, Lord of Golden Flower, Gondolin's Darling, had fallen in love with a former assassin from a different world, named Laura Kinney.
And for the first time in his life, he was truly happy.
Waiting for your reviews, guys!
