Messengers

Gildor's POV

Gondolin

„Gildor! Come over here for a moment"

I followed the echo of Glorfindel's voice around the next large pillar, silently cursing the weird acoustics in this hall "Why don't you come to me for a change?" I asked testily "You've kept ordering me around all day, you could-…Oh, er, my king-"

I dropped to one knee, heat rising in my cheeks. Glorfindel laughed "I had but the order to get you here"

"Rise, Gildor. This is no audience" Turgon watched me thoughtfully "I…have to ask a…personal question"

I licked my lips nervously, wondering whatever personal concern of mine could interest the king.

"Ask it, my lord" I said when no one spoke.

"I was told you…might not be all too happy being cooped up within these walls"

I gave Glorfindel a hard glare, and he had the grace to smile guiltily.

"That is true" I said uncomfortably "So I asked to be assigned to the scouts and guards. I am more trouble within court than without"

Turgon shook his head, smiling "So far I have no objections. I was not going to criticize anything. It is this: we are sending ships"

"Ships?" I asked blankly.

"Into the west. I need messengers. Trusty messengers, with experience and courage. And a bit of madness, I suppose"

"No" I said, startled beyond measure "I will not contest the charge of madness, but I am neither sailor nor…diplomat. My lord, send anyone but do not ask me to go there- into the West"

The last came out as more of a plea than a request. I wondered how much Glorfindel had said. Obviously not enough not to bring me into this clam.

Turgon blinked "Why not?"

I shook my head desperately. Whatever I could say, it would not be enough to refuse an assignment by the king.

"Turgon, I am not sure if I have said too little or too much" Glorfindel put in "I think Gildor was not exactly thinking about going as far as the shadow-seas when I said 'as far as possible'"

Turgon glanced at him for a moment "Well, I am going to take my question back, why not" he said to me after a moment "But I still need messengers"

"If you command me, I will go" I said, feeling a cold weight in my gut.

"I will command no one on to that road. But would you not go even if I had another destination for you than the western shores?"

"My lord?"

"Halfway. To Cirdan at the Havens"

"I would go there" I said cautiously, very much aware that I was definitely out of place to bargain with the king. I could bicker with Glorfindel about orders, but never with Turgon.

"This is not an order either" Turgon said "Think about it. You in fact will have the most complicated assignment of all those I will send – you are to return. Unaided, unguarded, and unnoticed. Speak to no one. Be seen by no one, either. Do not tarry on the road, leave no traces. Make thrice sure no one follows. I will ask only those to go who I am sure can master this without failure – we can not risk sending out any help if you are caught, even if within sight of the gate. But I am lecturing on things you will know for yourself"

I nodded mutely. My mind raced through hundreds of possibilities. I risked very much in looking at Glorfindel once more. I knew he would not be a messenger, and either way, it would mean saying goodbye for indeterminate time. Until I returned. If I returned. I had little illusions about the road. He gave a small nod.

"I will go, my lord" I said quietly "And return if I can"

"You know you put me in a cruel spot? Making me choose between my heart's desires this way?" I said that night as we lay together, the windows of my room flung wide to admit the warm summer-breeze. I was near the top of the guard-tower. No one had contested the room with me – it was hot in summer, chilly in winter, and a long climb up winding stairs. But I wanted it for the view. Living further down, with all you could see being houses or mountains beyond houses, drove me mad.

He shrugged easily "The world outside does not wait for you. But I will be here regardless. You would never have gone otherwise. And Turgon would not have asked you"

"I have to live up to whatever credits you gave me?"

"Gildor, Turgon still knows next to nothing about you. Because you don't talk"

"But you do, enough for us two obviously"

Glorfindel grinned "I had to. Because you would never have got out of here otherwise, as I said. I am quite confident that you will make it back safely. Otherwise I would not have talked"

"Does he trust me?" I asked after a while.

"He trusts me" Glorfindel said delicately.

"Ah" I said dryly "I hope both your trust will be justified"

"Do you not want to go?"

I closed my eyes for a moment "I do want to go. So very much. It is just like…"

"Like he just did you a favour? Do you fear that?"

I shrugged "Why does he want someone to bring back word? Cirdan will not let him down. The messengers he sends will sail. That is a risk he might, I think, very easily avoid"

"You are the risk?"

"Yes. A city-elf alone with all kinds of choice information. To carry word back he does not really need to know because it is self-understood"

"Sometimes-" Glorfindel sighed "-I wished you were less pragmatic"

I pushed myself up to look at him "Sometimes I wish you would not avoid me on such questions as if I were a simple guard to take his orders and not ask why"

He grinned "But you are, captain. Look, if I catch a wolf and let him run again, he doesn't ask why I do it. He shows two clean pair of paws"

"A wild wolf? That's what I am?"

"Well…no. Not really. Look. Turgon asks you to bring back word because none of our messengers returned, ever. Whether on sea or on land. I think even if they reached the west they would never be allowed to return to say hello to us here. And Cirdan can send no messenger to us. You go out by command, and you return by command. You will be allowed to enter again. If we get word otherwise, it is from the near areas, by our own scouts – or by the eagles. And I believe he thinks their news are a bit…well, let's call it censored"

I blinked "He thinks Manwe's own birds would lie to us?"

Glorfindel groaned "You are pragmatic"

"I am direct. So answer. Commander"

"I think you are a bit harsh calling it lying. He suspects they either do not want to or are ordered not to tell all of the truth. And what they see, they see with eagle's eyes. I think we need a bit more…down-to-earth-news"

"So" I lay back thoughtfully "And you think I tried to fool the Mandos once, I might just as well continue with Manwe himself? Well, you may be right – there is little I could make worse for me"

He glared at me "Don't talk like that"

"Why not?" I demanded "Can you prove otherwise?"

"Maybe not" he said, a little more earnest, but then grinned again "But I can forget. Or make believe. Care to take a chance?"

I grinned "Now you are pragmatic"

"I just won't waste the time we have"

"And you always have the last word"

"Yes. And now shut up and enjoy"

It was late spring the next year when we finally left. I felt a bit strange going with a group of seven, all of who were to take the ships. For a while, I was regarded with a mixture of cautious mistrust and scorn. I cared little, though I missed Faire. I kept apart from the others and concentrated on the lands we crossed. The wonderful world, unordered wilderness and, thank Orome, deep forests instead of mountains wherever you looked, made up for the coolness of my comrades. A few days went by, and gradually their attitude relaxed. To my own surprise I found my skills in hunting and mostly quiet gathering not completely faded. I think that helped a great deal to endear me to my initially very withdrawn companions. We seldom hunted, though, and if we did, we took small prey. There was no time for larger kills, which inevitably would also leave traces, traces we could not afford. Mostly we lived on waybread, but I did not live on anything so much for considerable time than the exhilaration of freedom. The air seemed rich enough to drink it, the colours brighter and the sky wider and dusk and dawn more glowing than they ever were in the sheltered city. Not even a strip of days full of storm and cold rain could quell my mood. I felt like a hawk turned loose from someone's fist.

To some degree, my companions understood and shared that mood, but as the days of hard journeying and travelling under cover lengthened they more and more concentrated on fulfilling the mission they had promised themselves to. At least they did not appear to continue covertly mistrusting me as the one who was to return, bearing the risk of betraying all Turgon's realm to the enemy with one wrong motion. Still I had to think of Glorfindel's casually mentioned wild wolf and wondered if it must seem so the others. My part might be the most complicated, returning without leaving a trace, but it was also a partly unnecessary risk, as I had said. A favour no one really understood how it had come to be bestowed upon me, including myself. Maybe they wondered where I would pose more danger, restless in the city or turned loose in the wild.

None of that truly surfaced, and we went speedily and in peace. Of the seven I found my closest companion for the journey to the Havens in a young elf who had been born in Middle-earth. But his mother was of the Falathrim, and he wished not only to see the sea, but to sail it and maybe cross into the west. The thought made me shiver, both that of ships and that of the west. For the time being, though, the two of us had found a kindred spirit in our delight in the land and the weather. We passed uncounted places where I would have stayed for a while longer, and it was hard every time to let them go and move on with the others. But I did, because I wanted to see what else would come after each place. I thought it was hard, but it was harder even for my younger companion. He all but forgot the sea when we came into the land of willows. We all lingered there longer than perhaps we should have, but finally we saw that the security we felt in that land would neither shield us forever nor slow the time that seemed to pass only outside the reach of the willows. We moved on, but my companion remained behind. I was caught in a painful trap I had not seen coming. Turgon's order was the maxim on this journey, but neither as scout-captain nor as companion could I see myself leaving a comrade behind. We came near to fighting over the matter, but in the end I had to give in to the rest who were straining forward. I was but the errand-boy in this and not one of the sailors. So my friend kept straying in the willow-land, and I moved on with the others. It was not that far to the havens from here, and too soon we reached them. And the sea. The others complained about my silence by that time, but I could not argue. Though I enjoyed the salty sea-wind, the unbounded waters reaching towards the horizon, and the gulls' cries, I firmly closed my ears and mind and heart against the soft mutter of the waves. I watched them lap the shore, sometimes swifter, sometimes lazy and sluggish, and thought I would not want to trust my life to them. Since we had left the Ice, and the half-frozen sea, I had not been at the coast again.

More days passed, and I found time for myself and ways to enjoy what freedom I had. The nature of my task did not make for much talking and closeness to others, but I did not care for that. In the city, I could hardly escape always being in company this way or that, if I did not ride half a day across the plains and into the far mountains – here, I could spend days not talking to anyone. I listened a lot, though, and beside what Cirdan told me frankly, knowing where I came from, I gathered talk and gossip of the seaside. Great news we had heard even in the city, but uncounted details could be filled in here.

The ships were swift in building and my seven companions who were to man them swift in learning sea-craft. I watched sometimes, and spoke a little with them, but more and more I felt driven back from the sea and inland. The ships grew almost daily. When six were finished and lying tall and white in the harbour, the seventh only lacking the mast, someone arrived we had, perforce, given up for lost or else counted on not seeing again. My companion had not left the willow-land of his own volition but literally been caught in mid-stream. He had taken it into his head to build a raft and sail on the Sirion when a great wind had seized him and taken him down to the sea. Now he was here and not in the least fed up with water-ways or daunted by the might of wind and sea. Instead, he wished nothing so much as to be away. He caught up with the learning and previous experiences of his comrade sailors with so much speed that I could only account with his mother's sea-heritage for it. A day came when they were to start, a blue and friendly morning with a high tide. I stood on the quay to bid them farewell, and I shivered in the bright sun. The sea was dazzling, calm and deep blue, but an opaque silver when the rays hit the surface at an angle. Beautiful, the sailors said, the right time for lifting anchor, but I thought it weird and eerie without being able to explain the feeling. With a heavy heart I said good-bye to my erstwhile companion last of them all. He was in high spirits and confident.

"I would say, take care" I said "But it is a futile saying, I suppose. When you cast off from here, only the sea will decide where you go"

"Not completely the sea alone" he said with a smile "I have a small say in the matter, too. Though you are right. I pray neither Ulmo nor Osse will be utterly against us"

I embraced him in farewell "I wonder if the two have any say in that matter. May you find what you seek. And may you find it to your heart's content"

"I have heard so much about the west" he said quietly "I desire nothing so much as to get there. Spring never ends there, they say. And no blight or shadows lies upon it"

"Maybe" I said cautiously "For my part, I prefer to take spring with winter, if in return I am to enjoy it free of governance. And autumn without snow to follow is as bad as spring without summer"

He laughed "You always have dark words, don't you? At least I know you love the land as much as I do, or I would be worried. Maybe you love it more. But I will rather drift on the shadow-waters than to never even have attempted to find the west, be it closed to us or not. Farewell! May you find what makes your heart content"

The return to the city took me longer even than the way to the havens. Alone, I could take the freedom to linger at times when places were just too inviting. Though I constantly weighed the risk of indulging myself against my duty I dearly enjoyed that time. Once more, I had some waybread Cirdan had furnished me with on which I mostly lived. I lit no fire, and did not hunt at all. Instead I gathered the slowly ripening berries and last year's nuts, sometimes mushrooms and roots. This time truly, I thought, I passed like a wild thing, making no sound and leaving no track. Often, I found myself fingering the wild elves' pendant and wondering. I thought of Bearclaw. But I never looked for them.

In all the weeks it took me to travel in this way, slow and secret, I never saw another traveller. I slept seldom, but if I had to, I crept into the best hidden nooks I could find. Those were lonely and often miserable rests. Before, I had missed only Glorfindel and Faire. Now, I found myself also missing soft beds and warm water. Autumn had passed and the first snow wasn't far off when I hastened towards the city finally. The last four days were the most miserable of that entire journey. I crossed hardly any distance, constantly checking if I left traces, if somebody or something was near, seeing uncounted possibilities where a spy might lie in wait for me and I would never notice him. I did not sleep at all, nor rest very much. I crept forward inches at a time, moving in the underbrush as far as possible, circumventing open areas and soft ground. Finally, I waited for nightfall and crossed the last distance to the mouth of the dry river. Absolute blackness closed around me and I froze in fear for a terrible moment. Then my eyes adjusted and slowly I could see at least dim shapes. I crept through the tunnel and found it more horrifying with each step. I was worming my way back into a strangling prison, part of me said. I was returning to shelter, the only home I had, and my lover whose gentle presence had never completely faded from my mind even when I had been furthest away from him, by the sea, said another part. Before I could hesitate and get into serious trouble I was challenged, and the guards' lanterns momentarily blinded me after the pitch darkness.

It was many long years in which slowly word came of foundered ships, or no word at all, and no one of those Turgon had sent did return to the havens. We had given them all up for lost, and as the years passed Turgon's heart darkened. He waited for word, for counsel, or for a message. It was at a time no one expected it anymore that one returned and a message came. The young sailor, last to leave with his ship, had been cast ashore to live and tell of his journey. He brought a human with him, a mortal warrior who carried word from Ulmo himself. He was called Tuor, and the stir his appearance and his message caused was great. But I did not much heed the dark warnings that day and instead hurried to the king's hall to greet my former companion. Neither of us had yet found all that he thought he wished for, but for a while we were all content to stay as and where we were. A shadow of doubt had crept over everything, though, and once more, wariness increased. Scouts and guards were doubled.

My young companion of those past days spoke little of his time at sea, and less of whatever terrors he had met in his long drifting and toiling against the waves. The loss of his ship-mates weighed heavily on him, and for a while he kept his distance even from his old friends who had never left the city. He poured much of his energy into the duty he had taken on to keep his mind busy. Though he would have been entitled to a much higher office he chose instead to act as guard and scout. Somehow he ended up first in Glorfindel's wing, but a little later changed to mine. We became trusted companions in arms. In short time, he rose up through the ranks to become second captain. We fought with our scattered companies when the walls were breached at midsummer. He was keeping our company together when Glorfindel charged the Balrog with nothing but his dagger. He was there when we scrabbled the stones together and built the cairn on the high pass of the Eagles' Cleft. And so he escaped the reeking ruins of Gondolin with me, and we came once more down into Nan Tathren where we had once lost him to the spell of that land. I often felt Calathaura was not a name whose ideal I could ever fulfil. But never once did I doubt the wisdom with which his name had been given. He was called Voronwe.

Chapter Notes:

More than loosely based on Voronwe's account of his journey in "Of Tuor and his coming to Gondolin" in Unfinished Tales.

"And when Turgon heard of this (the destruction of the Falas and the Havens) he sent again his messengers to Sirion's mouths, and besought the aid of Cirdan the Shipwright. At the bidding of Turgon Cirdan built seven swift ships, and they sailed out into the West; but no tidings of them came ever back to Balar, save of one, and the last" (The Silmarilion, "Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad)

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