Hi, all! I decided to join in the Gondolin week challenge for fun after seeing the promts. For clarification, I could not fill out a participation form since everything appeared to be through Tumblr from what I could tell, and I'm not allowed to be on social media as per my parents (I literally only have this and pintrest), and I also don't have an ao3 account for the same reason.
So, again, this is for fun only in my case, but if any of the moderators for Gondolin week happen to see this and decide that it is against the guidelines for me to participate since I didn't fill out a form, I just want to make it clear that if that is the case, I will take the stories I write for Gondolin week down upon request. :)
So, now that all that's out of the way, happy reading!
Turgon sat at the head of the table, a gentle smile resting on his stone features. Warm light from the lanterns above married with the pale glow of the moon, casting beautiful rays over all in attendance. The Lords of Gondolin and their families were at table with him, their children running around, giggling as they played, occasionally darting under the table so that they could cheekily steal food off of the adults' plates.
Nobody had the heart to scold them.
He chuckled as he watched a tiny hand snake up from beneath the tablecloth beside him, followed by a blonde head of hair. Soon Eärendil fully surfaced with a small, adorable grunt, his blue eyes widening as he saw his grandfather looking at him.
"What would you like?" Turgon whispered, unable to mask his grin.
"A strawberry pastry, please!" Came the not-so-quiet squeak, swiftly following the smile that soared across his young face with still pudgy cheeks.
Turgon redirected his gaze back to the table, looking back and forth to make sure nobody was watching, before grabbing a pastry which he passed to Eärendil with a wink.
"Thanks, grandfather!" He said hastily, escaping back beneath the table to scarf down his prize before running off to find his friends.
"Now I know what you all meant when you'd all joke around and tell me to stop growing." He turned to see Idril beside him, watching Eärendil play with a wistful look in her sky blue eyes. "He's growing up so quickly… they all are."
"Children have a tendency to do that." He replied, smiling a little as he thought about Idril's childhood on Valinor before his smile faltered as his mind traveled to Helcaraxë, watching Elenwë slip beneath the ice again.
Idril grew up very quickly after that.
"It wasn't your fault." She whispered softly, seeing her father's mind. "There was nothing anyone could've done to save Ammë…"
"I know dearest… but you shouldn't have had to grow up without her."
"And you shouldn't have had to watch me grow, all while feeling guilty for something that you couldn't have changed. You gave me all you had to give. I couldn't have asked for a better childhood."
He huffed a laugh through the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
"You do spoil me so with your words, daughter!"
"And you deserve every bit of that praise, Atar!" She insisted with a giggle, placing her hand atop his, his callused skin as warm as it had been throughout her childhood as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
"As do you with how you're raising him. He'll be a good man when he's grown. Like his father." Turgon murmured, indicating to Tuor, who was laughing as he reminisced about embarrassing and humorous moments in court with his fellow Lords.
"And like you." Idril replied softly, gently placing a kiss on his cheek.
"Grandfather!" The cheerful cry came before he could respond, causing him to turn and just barely catch his grandchild flying towards him.
"Hello again, little one!" He laughed, pulling Eärendil up onto his lap.
"What do you mean, 'again'?" Idril asked, thoroughly confused.
"Grandfather stole a strawberry pastry off the table for me!" The child declared happily, the remains of his dessert still on his chin.
"Say it a little louder, why don't you?" Turgon grumbled with a smile, making Idril snicker.
"Theft doesn't exactly sound like kingly behavior, does it, Atar?" She teased.
"Oh, leave it be! Even a king should be allowed to spoil his own grand-" his voice trailed off as he froze, gazing steadily into Eärendil's powder blue eyes.
He could faintly see the reflection of fire on the mountain range.