Chapitre 24 : The Cave of the Golden Rose I
o
o
Turgon was about to conclude the session.
"Don't forget that there is the parade tomorrow morning," he said. "Ecthelion, I count on you to get up early."
Glorfindel looked at his young colleague with concern. He saw that his hands were shaking.
"Ecthelion... You could answer me when I speak to you," the king added.
"Yes," replied the Lord of the Fountain. "I will be there."
"Very well. The session is therefore closed."
The knights left the meeting room. On the stairs, Glorfindel held Ecthelion by the shoulder.
"Ecthelion, are you all right ?"
"Yes. Why ?"
The end of the Firith had been celebrated for two days, so there was a lot of street entertainment and lights had been put up all over the city, to compensate for the fact that it was getting dark too quickly – a practice that was contested by the Sylvan Elves, who argued that it was disturbing the fauna and flora.
As the knights left the Round Table, in one of the city's many gardens, a puppeteer harangued the young audience in front of his wooden theatre.
"Come, come, little ladies and gentlemen !" he shouted. "For today I am going to tell you the most beautiful story of friendship that ever existed on Arda Marred ! A true love story... The story of Fingon Astaldo and his cousin Maedhros Maitimo !"
The show had already begun when Ecthelion came across it on his way home, and he stood behind the seated children, his blue eyes shining on his pale face like two lanterns.
The theatre was quite large and the puppets were made entirely of wood. The story was about Fingon's resolution to go and rescue his cousin who was being held prisoner by Morgoth.
"I cannot live without Maitimo," said Fingon's puppet, "for he is my best friend. And if he is suffering, I want to know his pain, and do everything I can to ease it."
The Narrator spoke again : "So Astaldo set out to deliver... Who ?"
"The princess !" cried the elven children.
"No, his friend Maedhros !" corrected the stallholder. "So Astaldo set off, and hid in the smoke to avoid being seen by the evil orcs. But he could not find Maedhros."
Fingon's puppet sat on a stone in the scenery. Suddenly he was startled by a high-pitched voice.
"Look at me ! Look at me !" said the voice.
Fingon looked around, but saw nothing.
"On your back. Put down what's on your back !"
Fingon threw off his bag and his harp.
Then a golden harp as big as Fingon appeared from below ; the harp had eyes full of eyelashes and a plump mouth covered in gold.
"Astaldo, listen to me ! It is I, your harp, which has served you so well in the past, and in happier days !"
The elf puppet nodded.
"If you want to find your friend Maedhros, you must take me in your hands again, and make my strings vibrate."
"Why then, O my harp ?"
"Follow my advice without question. Play an old song, from when you and Maedhros were still friends. Make me sing, and sing, you too !"
The harp with the face went back down behind the wood of the theatre. Fingon now held a smaller harp in his hands.
"And he sang a song, which recalled the time when the Houses of Fëanor and Fingolfin were not at odds, and when Maedhros had not yet turned from him because of the lies of Morgoth."
But the puppet stopped at the third verse, for another voice was singing, a voice that was weak and broken but carried by the echo.
Fingon's doll turned his head several times in bewilderment, and then suddenly Maedhros' doll came down to the other end of the theatre, one hand clasped in a ring. All he wore was a torn toga, and the white varnished wood of his skin was covered with red lacerations.
"What have they done to you, my friend ?" moaned Astaldo.
Tears ran down the puppet's wooden cheeks.
"He is crying !"said a little elf girl, pointing at him.
"You cannot deliver me, Fingon, so kill me to end my torment," said Maedhros puppet.
"Oh my god ! He's going to kill him !" said some of the children.
"But no, I know this story, it ends well," said others.
One toddler began to cry with a loud wail and called for his mother.
"So be it. I'll shoot that arrow," said the puppet, with new tears streaming down her cheeks. "Farewell, O Maitimo, who were the dearest friend of mine !"
The doll's mobile eyelids closed, she bent her bow.
"Aim for the sun, Astaldo !" a mysterious voice commanded.
The arrow shot skyward into the background.
A majestic eagle puppet with a very expressive face had appeared from the right, and its beak twitched exaggeratedly, for it had speech.
"Do not lose hope, valiant elf ! I am Thorondor, lord of the eagles, and I will carry you to your friend."
Fingon's puppet climbed onto the neck of the giant eagle, which advanced its feathered head to Maedhros' puppet. In this version of the story, strangely enough, Fingon managed to undo the iron ring without cutting Maedhros' hand. The talking eagle set them down on dry land.
"Prince Fingon, you have saved me !" said the prisoner's puppet, turning to the hero. "You are indeed the bravest of all the princes, and the most beloved !"
"He's going to kiss him !" said several children.
"But no," said the puppeteer.
"Yes, he must kiss him !"
The puppeteer gave in and Fingon's puppet took Maedhros' puppet in his arms.
"But not like that ! With a kiss," said one of the children in the front row.
Fingon's puppet gave Maedhros' puppet a kiss on the cheek.
"That's not a real kiss !" the children protested.
"Yes, it has to be on the mouth !"
"Yes, he has to kiss him on the mouth !"
"Well, come on..." said the puppeteer to himself. "If it's to please them..."
He checked to see if there were any of the king's sergeants around. Ecthelion had already left. The way was clear. Then Fingon's puppet took Maedhros' puppet's face in his hands, and the mouths of the two wooden heads joined.
The children cheered and smiled with delight.
"And now they're getting married !"
"No," replied the Narrator.
"But they love each other so much !" protested the children.
"Yes, but no."
The next morning, many young elven women had crowded the streets to see the knights of King Turgon marching, and they were handing out flowers to those they wanted to honour.
With his head covered by his pointed helmet, Ecthelion looked lost in thought, and none dared approach him. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he finally saw one of them coming towards him. He stopped and turned towards her, so that she was facing him. And once he saw her, he could not take his eyes off her.
She was tall, as fresh as the frozen spring, but as soft as autumn. Her dark brown hair fell from the top of her forehead in long, snake-like waves over the fabric of her draped linen dress. Her forehead was smooth and her eyes slit, grey with bits of gold ; they shone as if they had caught the light of Valinor in their irises. Her skin was white as snow, and blue. Her mouth was ruddy.
In her arms, the girl held a basin of water with white cut flowers floating on it. She took one of them with her fingertips, lifted it up and placed it on Ecthelion's forehead.
"Noble knight," she said, in a voice that seemed to belong to another time.
Ecthelion held out his hand in turn, and felt the cold metal of the fibula on top of his robe.
"White-Flower..." he murmured.
"Who are you talking to ?" asked Glorfindel.
The Knight of the Fountain gasped, then turned his head towards his colleague, who already had a whole garland of yellow flowers on his head, and bracelets around his wrists and lance.
"To this lady..."
But no sooner had he said this than the young woman had disappeared.
"Did you see her ?"
"Girls ! I've seen many of them. They're everywhere today... Did one of them catch your eye ?"
"No..." replied the youngest elf, his eyebrows furrowed.
It was the first time Glorfindel had seen Ecthelion interested in a woman. Everything happened in the end...