Disclaimer: Tolkien's, all Tolkien's. *mumbles something about wanting to own Glorfindel*
A/N: Follow up to Fountain and Flower... This is becoming a rather long bedtime story here.... I know the twins are 111 years older than Arwen, and since I don't want to shift through my HoMEs to find out whether that is a lengthy age gap or not, I am assuming that they are grown elves. Ah, the joys of artistic liberty... This is, after all, a semi-AU-ish fic.
*
Arwen sighed sleepily once Glorfindel finished, her hand still on Glorfindel's sleeve, though now the grip was much laxed. The hour was not too late as yet, but for the little Undomiel, there had been more than a fair share of adventure and excitement, and the warm covers were temptingly soft. The story, which had kept her interest throughout, had ended, and now all the elfling could think of was sleep. Glorfindel, noticing that Arwen was slipping into reverie, gently removed her hand from his sleeve, placed it by her side and drew the blankets up to her chin, softly bidding her goodnight. Rising up properly and straightening his back, Glorfindel stretched, slightly stiff from sitting for so long, before motioning to the twins and bidding them to follow him out from their sister's room.
Elladan nudged Elrohir, shooting his brother a meaningful glance which did not pass unnoticed by the elda striding next to them.
'What do you want? Or rather, what are you two planning to do?' Elladan just nudged Elrohir again.
'You ask him, gwanur, if you so wish to know.' Abruptly, Elrond and Celebrian smoothly walked down from the adjoining corridor, Elrond placing a hand on Elladan's shoulder while Celebrian hugged Elrohir.
'What does Elrohir so wish to know?' Elladan jumped slightly at the silent approach from his father, but quickly recovered and embraced Elrond properly while his twin mirrored his actions on his mother.
'We wanted to know what happened to Earendil after wrecking havoc in Ecthelion's house in the story Glorfindel told Arwen.' Elrond shot Glorfindel a questioning look, one eyebrow raised alarmingly high. Glorfindel shrugged.
'Earendil was a handful, I will not deny that.' Elrohir laughed softly, as all five took a detour to the kitchen to grab a drink. Once the wine had been poured and the glassed handed out, Elrond settled down in one of the chairs the kitchen staff usually used, sipping from his glass while staring at Glorfindel over the rim.
'What about my father?' Glorfindel sniffed appreciatively at the vintage, before leaning against the counter used for rolling dough, ignoring the flour that got on his tunic. Elladan and Elrohir positioned themselves next to their father, while Celebrian sought to perching delicately on the counter, seeing as there were not enough chairs to go around. Glorfindel mock sighed, drumming his fingers on the table, sending up a few puffs of flour.
'Well, after Earendil was led into the house by Elemmakil...'
*
Glorfindel sat contentedly by the fire, taking advantage of the fact that Earendil dared not misbehave in the presence of his grandfather and letting the warmth dry his hair. The wild child was happily playing, without the usual shrieks and crashes, with Turgon and Elemmakil. The two elves were making full use of a set of soldiers that Ecthelion had dug up from somewhere to amuse the half-elven child, who had happily fallen in love with the battle strategy of bash and run away.
Ecthelion was sitting next to Glorfindel, Egalmoth next to him, as they slowly dried off. The Lord of the Fountains was sipping on a glass of the strongest liquor his possessed, rubbing his temples wearily, thankful that the day was at last drawing to a close. The moon was coming to be quite high in the sky, and Turgon finally yawned as he patted Earendil on the head.
'Time for you to sleep, child, and me to return home.'
Earendil smiled sweetly up to his grandfather, who was standing up to take his leave. Ecthelion swore that he could hears the cogs working rapidly in the mind of the devious child. Egalmoth too stood to leave. Turgon raised his hand in thanks and farewell to Ecthelion, and together with Egalmoth, he departed from the House. Elemmakil softly bade his lord goodnight, and the younger elf faded into the background, leaving Ecthelion and Glorfindel alone with Earendil.
Well, at least where Earendil had been. The boy had disappeared. Ecthelion gulped down the remaining liquor in his glass and pounded the sides of his chair. Glorfindel looked empathetically at him, and the two progressed to try and dig out the child from the recesses of Ecthelion's house.
*
They had looked everywhere for the child, in the cellars, in his bedroom, near the fountains, even the kitchen. Earendil was simply nowhere to be found, and that peeved Ecthelion to the extreme. Grumbling, he tried to think of a likely place he would have hidden when he heard a shout near a storeroom.
'Earendil? Earendil, is that you?' Ecthelion poked his head into the said storeroom, where he had heard the frightened sounds. Glorfindel followed suit, and the two wandered in, looking high and low for the elusive boy. Behind a dusty shelf filled with scrolls was Earendil, whimpering in trepidation. Earendil looked fearfully up at the two elf lords.
'I heard something, Uncle 'Thelion! Something's out there!' The child whimpered as he looked anxiously past Glorfindel as if expecting an orc to jump up from the darkness and attack him. Ecthelion rolled his eyes expressively and walked over to the boy.
'Calm down, Earendil, there's nothing in the dark.' Earendil howled as Ecthelion tried to pick him up, his hands pounding the elf's shoulders painfully. Glorfindel winced. It looked dreadfully painful.
'There's something out there! I know it!' Ecthelion had no choice but to put the child down in fear of dropping the struggling boy. Earendil crept back into the hole that was formed between the shelf and the wall. Ecthelion looked at the boy through a gap between a history of the Ainur and a scroll depicting the foundations of Elvendom on Middle Earth. The boy stared back. Ecthelion sighed. Of all things, Earendil was afraid of the dark.
'Fine, Earendil. Glorfindel and myself will go and slay whatever demon that is roaming these halls, and we'll come back and get you, all right?'
'No! Don't leave me, Uncle 'Thelion!'
'Then come along.'
'No! Don't make me leave, Uncle 'Thelion!' Earendil did not realize how oxymoronic he was being, much to Glorfindel's amusement. Ecthelion pulled the golden haired elf down next to him and dumped a chess set into Glorfindel's hands.
'You stay here, and I'll go find a way to get Earendil out of there.' Before Glorfindel could protest, Ecthelion had stood and swept out of the storeroom, and thus the Siege was laid. Glorfindel sighed, pulling books off the shelf to make space to place the chess set. Earendil had been taught by Tuor to play chess since he was much younger, owing to the fact that Tuor was an almost rabid chess fan. The human child snatched the white pieces immediately, leaving Glorfindel to arrange the black pieces on his own. It was going to be a long night.
*
'Come now, Earendil. Are you sure you don't want to play with this nice toy?'
*
'What about this cake?'
*
Glorfindel was on game twenty two, and Ecthelion had come and gone, each time bringing a form of bribery to try and entice Earendil away. It had ranged from toys to sweets to jewellery, but the half-elf had adamantly refused the temptation of the offerings and had not budged more than a centimetre. Glorfindel was tiring of the Siege. Finally, the golden haired lord snapped, and he pulled Ecthelion down when the elf next came into the room.
'You play. It is my turn to try and find a solution.' Glorfindel decided that if Earendil wanted to play it dirty, he too would have to resort to desperate measures. Five minutes later, he re-entered the room with a bag of sugar cubes. Earendil looked greedily at them while he massacred Ecthelion's bishop. Glorfindel wordlessly offered him one. Then two. Then three. Within minutes, the child was on a hopelessly inane sugar high. Ecthelion sighed in relief as Earendil collapsed down in exhaustion, overcome by sleepiness and sugar, his will finally slipping. Discreetly, the Lord of the Fountains scattered the chess pieces. Glorfindel did not need to know that Earendil had had him in a checkmate.
*
Ecthelion heaved a sigh of elation as he sunk down into bed. Earendil had been put to sleep, Glorfindel was in a guest room, and he had what was left of the night to rest in blissful quiet and peace. Now all he had to do was return the monster to his parents the next day. That, he realized dreamily, was going to be an occasion to celebrate. Soon, the warm embrace of the blankets and sheets lured him to the paths of dreams, and Ecthelion dropped asleep.
*
The next dawn dawned bright and cheerily, and Ecthelion was practically hopping up and down in anticipation. Today was the day he would get rid of the cumbersome bohemian monster that was Earendil. Donning a grey tunic and dark blue leggings, he jogged happily over to Glorfindel's room to find the blond wide awake and stretching comfortably. The two then proceeded to make their way over to Earendil's room. When they entered, Ecthelion and Glorfindel had the shock of their lives. Though the boy was still sleeping, ugly red rashes had sprung all over his face and body. Ecthelion looked horrified, and Glorfindel was already considering the amount of time he had left to live. Ecthelion wanted to melt away into a small puddle of goo. Idril was going to kill them.
'Glorfindel, is Earendil allergic to sugar?'
*
Glorfindel ran a hand through his hair as he watched Ecthelion pace up and down the length of Earendil's room. The two lords had not dared to wake the boy, too afraid of what his reaction might be in response to the red dots all over his face. How had they come about? Surely the boy was not allergic to sugar? They would have known a long time ago, for Gondolin was too small a city for anything like this to go unnoticed by the general populace. Idril was going to shred them into tiny little flags and hang them from the King's Square if she found out. Ecthelion spoke.
'We have to formulate a plan of attack. We cannot present Earendil in this state to Idril unless we want to be disfigured for life.'
'How?' Glorfindel asked, worry laced through his tone. Ecthelion shrugged.
'We distract her, I suppose.'
Both froze as they heard the horn that signalled the changing on the guard. Idril would be expecting them by then. Glorfindel desperately thought up a plan.
*
Earendil felt the red welts all over himself itch, but he had signed a contract. Glorfindel had told him that if he wore the ridiculous mask and long sleeves, he would be rewarded with three bags of sugar cubes without his mother knowing. The deal had been too good to pass up, and for that simply price, Earendil was now in possession of a dangerously large amount of sugar that would be enough to last him through to the Fourth age. Now, he walked side by side with Ecthelion and Glorfindel as they made their way over to the city centre, where his mother would be waiting for him. Earendil felt that the two elf lords were overreacting. They were, after all, only red dots, albeit itchy red dots. Shrugging, Earendil ate another cube of sugar.
*
Idril looked incredulously from Ecthelion to Glorfindel, unable to fully comprehend what was going on. Her son was wearing a paper bag over his face, for some reason she could not possibly fathom, and he refused to take it off no matter what she said. Ecthelion had assured her it was just a passing fad, and Earendil was sure to grow out of it sometime soon. Idril, however, was not convinced, sensing something fishy at the way the two elves around her were acting particularly jumpy. Besides, Earendil almost never wore long sleeved shirts unless she forced him to.
'What is wrong with my son?' She demanded angrily. Glorfindel was quick to ease her fears, smiling reassuringly at her in an effort to save his and Ecthelion's skins.
'Nothing, my lady. He has just taken a liking to that bag, nothing more.' Idril refused to believe him once again. With one swift tug, the paper bag came off.
Idril's shriek could be heard all the way off in Doriath.
*
'My lady! Please, reason with yourself!' Ecthelion cried as he backed away from Idril, who was pummelling him with her hands. Glorfindel was directly behind him, and the two together retreated away from the Lady's wrath, but Idril was intent on penning them down.
'You abusive fool! I will have my father behead you! The both of you!' Idril was all out screaming by then, all signs of composure gone from her usually fair face. To Glorfindel, it simply looked terrible and dark at the moment, and running was something he was beginning to consider. Idril, however, was not named Celebrindal only because she went around barefoot most of the time, and the elf seriously doubted that Ecthelion and himself would be able to outrun the swift woman. Earendil followed from behind, quite content to simply munch on sugar and watch a verily entertaining spectacle. Tuor, who was on the way to guard duty, stopped and watched in amazement as his wife single handedly drove back two of the most courageous elf lords in Gondolin.
'Love? What is the matter?' Even Turgon, who was about that day in the city centre, came by.
'Daughter...?' Idril turned to them, still exclaiming at the top of her voice.
'These two hooligans have marred my son!' Ecthelion and Glorfindel were trying to defend themselves.
'We did no such thing!' Tuor glanced at his son, who was covered in angry red markings, and started laughing. Turgon looked at him, puzzled. Idril was ready to transfer her wrath onto her husband.
'What, pray tell, is so amusing about our son looking like an orc?' Tuor was shaking with mirth.
'Idril, our son was not, as you put it, marred by neither Glorfindel nor Ecthelion. He is simply suffering the symptoms of what we edain call Chicken Pox.' Turgon's brow furrowed, and Idril's wrath was temporarily stayed.
'Chicken Pox? What is that?'
'Chicken Pox is a normal sickness that all edain contract once during their lifetime. Our Earendil just happened to have caught it now. He will itch for a while, but as long as he does not scratch and cause them to become infected, he will be fine.' Ecthelion and Glorfindel felt a immense sense of relief. It was not their fault. They were not going to get murdered by Idril. Everything was perfect again. Earendil was out of their hands. Idril was busy fussing over her son. Ecthelion caught a bit of their conversation.
'Earendil? What is that you are eating?'
'Sugar cubes.'
'Where did you get them?'
'Uncle 'Thelion and Uncle 'Findel bribed me with them.'
The Lord of the Fountain and the
Lord of the Golden Flower both did not stick around to hear Idril's reaction
to that sentence.
