A/N: A bit of an interlude, but one with important information. I've divided this chapter into three parts, each part separated by the beginning of the letters El and Glorfindel sent each other. Also, I know that the timeline isn't right anymore. Everything is happening a bit later than in canon but lets just call that the consequences of Elarinya's existence.
CW: The second part contains the murder of children and their parents. It won't be explicit but read with care.
Elarinya's age in the three parts of this chapter: 108-171-195
Enjoy!
To the Princess Elarinya Aistana-
To Lord Glorfindel-
The wedding invitations came on a sunny afternoon.
Elarinya was sitting at her desk in her private office in Menegroth, working on some paperwork when the messenger came. Summer was just at its start, but the cool stone of the mountain they'd thankfully built their city in would keep them at a comfortable temperature even as the sun beat down on them.
"Princess?" A voice came from the door opening. Elarinya looked up and rolled her eyes, a smile breaking out over her face at the sight that met her.
"Did our time apart addle your brain, mellon nîn?" She asked, smirking at the elleth standing there.
"My apologies, Elarinya." Her best friend since childhood snarked back with a smirk of her own, her warm brown eyes and caramel skin glowing. "Or is it Aistana now? Honestly, mellon, you are collecting way too many names. Princess might be the safest name to call you lest one gets it wrong."
El barked out a laugh, her cheeky friend grinning at the sound. "Three names isn't so bad. You've got two of them yourself."
"Still one less than you."
They regarded each other fo a moment, grinning. They'd missed each other.
Lindariel had been sent away to Círdan for her apprenticeship soon after the battle ended, as a distant relative of her father. There she had learned to fight in the way of Cirdan's people, something which she'd been asking for ever since she first learned of the old elf.
Unfortunately, that meant that Elarinya and Lindariel just missed each other. El went off to Hithlum for her fostering, and Lin went off to the sea.
"My friend." El smiled, putting aside her paperwork. She stood, and opened her arms. "I've missed you."
Elves were surprisingly big on physical affection, as long it wasn't in front of strangers. Privacy was a must for anything above the usual polite niceties, which was something El very much agreed with.
Lin flew into her embrace, laughing joyously. "As I did you. You've grown!"
"Me?" She exclaimed, leaning back to eye her friend. "You've grown."
El might have finally reached the age of adulthood in their time apart, but it was her younger friend that'd truly grown. Gone was the girl-child and here stood the almost fully grown elleth.
"You look lovely, Lindariel." El continued, smiling. "Fierce."
"Thank you." The other female grinned, fiddling with the warrior braid plaited in her black curls. "As do you, El. You are finally of age!"
"Indeed." She smiled. It had been a long time coming, but here she finally was. An adult at last. "And in four short years, so will you. But tell me, Lin, why have you come here?"
Her friend didn't usually come to her rooms, too much of a free spirit to bother with the city inside the mountain. They usually met in one of the meadows in the forest surrounding the mountain, or on one of the trainingfields.
"I wanted to see you. Also, there is a message for you from Hithlum." Lindariel said, handing her a letter. Elarinya took it, feeling the heavy paper that signaled the importance or wealth of the sender. Turning it over she saw the seal and grinned.
An eight-pointed star in a field of blue.
Maedhros and Fingon.
She eagerly opened it, eyes scanning over the ancient form of Tengwar script Maedhros and Caranthir had taught her. "To Princess Elarinya Aistana of Doriath, fosterling of High King Fingon and his betrothed, Lord Maedhros Fäenorion of the Noldor."
El read the letter before meeting her friend's patient eyes and exclaimed happily, "They are getting married! Finally!"
They had been courting for close to thirty years now and personally she thought it was long past time for those two to bind themselves together in the most sacred ways an elf could. Marriage.
"Oooh," The dark-haired elleth cooed, sounding very unlike herself for a moment. "A royal wedding!"
Her friend was a born warrior, a fighter all the way to her bones but that didn't mean she was unfeminine. Not at all. With her lithe but strong form, long dark curls and warm brown eyes, Lindariel was as pretty as any elleth.
And just as capable of putting you on the ground as one.
"Did you see if my parents got an invitation as well?" She questioned, hoping they did. It would be nice if she could show her favorite spots in Hithlum to her parents.
"The King and Queen did, yes. As did Beleg and Mablung." Lindariel nodded, "The Queen even got a letter with her invitation, though I don't know what it said."
Interesting. She would have to ask her mother what it said, though she had a pretty good idea.
Maedhros and Fingon wanted a family, and while they were happy to adopt any young elf that even looked slightly lost or desponded, elflings were rare and adoption even rarer. They were surely hoping that perhaps her mother had a solution to their problem.
"Good." El stated, happy. "Shall we move this to a more comfortable room, mellon nin? We still have lots to catch up on, and I'm quite done with sitting at my desk."
"Please."
They walked to the beautifully decorated adjoining sitting room, arms linked. Each sat down in their favorite chair, skirts neatly arranged like the proper ladies they were.
"Your letters didn't tell me enough." Lindariel urged, smiling. "Did you kill any more orcs? Helped win another war? Please, tell me all I've missed."
Elarinya laughed, loud, happy and without shame. "Only if you do the same."
They talked for hours. Elarinya told her friend all about her time in Fingon's court. About the new friends she made, the parties she attended and the things she learned. She told her about Maeglin, who stayed for a year before returning back to Gondolin.
About Ecthelion, who had been made into the first of the diplomats for Gondolin's court. About Maedhros and Fingon. About Caranthir and the twins. About the hunts she went on with Celegorm, and the quiet apology he'd given her for his past misdeeds.
She talked about the consequences of her actions on the battlefield. The admiration she received but also the punishment for disobeying her parents. She'd been grounded and forced to help her father with his paperwork for a month!
Lin snorted, amused. "Poor you."
"Excuse you," She snarked back, grinning as she gave a dramatic shudder. "For your information, that was a very long month indeed."
She told Lin about Glorfindel, rolling her eyes and laughing.
"Glorfindel, hm?" Her friend asked, eyes twinkling. "You've talked about him before."
Elarinya abruptly stopped laughing, seeing where Lindariel was going. "We are friends."
They were. He'd taken her permission to write to heart and they'd been exchanging letters since the first month they'd returned to their respective homes. It had been a welcome distraction, seeing one of his letters waiting for her on her desk, the golden flower of his sigil pressed into the wax seal.
He was strangely formal on paper, and for a moment El had thought she'd misinterpreted his intentions. But after the initial greeting she saw the Glorfindel she'd gotten to know shining through. Still, it took the better part of a year to have him tone down the formality.
Glorfindel also came to visit Hithlum years later, coincidentally when she was fostering there. He took over diplomatic duties for Ecthelion for a year so that his friend could see to some duties back home.
"Of course you are." Lindariel cheekily agreed, mischief shining in her eyes. "I'm sure he's a dear friend to you. Tell me though, how does our dear king find your Ñoldo friend?"
"Lindariel!" Elarinya exclaimed, barely holding back the laughter that threatened to break out. Thingol's face when he realized she was exchanging letters with a Noldor had been hilarious, as had been his relief when she told him it was just friendship between her and the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower.
(Her mother's reaction on the other hand had made El hesitate, the mysterious smile curling around her mouth sending a warning chill down her spine. Her mind flashed back to her first vision in the waters of Ithel, before firmly shoving the thought away. They were just friends.
"For now." Melian murmured softly, purple eyes fixed upon her oblivious daughter.)
Lin arched a brow. "You do realize you spent quite a while describing the exact shade of gold his hair is in our letters, right? Not to mention the color of blue-green of his eyes."
Elarinya flushed, and grumbled, "He's pretty, okay?"
"Very well." Her friend sighed. "He's just your pretty friend. Alright. Now enough of the ellon talk and onto more important business; have you learned any new moves in your travels?"
And El grinned.
Princess-
My friend-
There was so much blood.
"No!" Elarinya's heart wrenching denial rang through the once pretty meadow as she stared at the horrific sight in front of her.
Black and red was spread everywhere in a morbid display she'd last seen the likes of on the battlefield of Nirnaeth Arnoediad, where Morgoth was at last defeated and the Enemy's forces had been forced to cry a thousand tears. With in the middle of the clearing a mess of tanned limbs, silver hair and sightless eyes she loved so very much.
Dior.
Oh, Valar. Her poor nephew.
El had been out riding with Lindariel, Thalion, Hanneth and Maedhros - who had been kind enough to take time out of his busy schedule to come visit his fosterling in Doriath. They'd been laughing over one of the stories El had about her time in Hithlum when one of mother's nightingales came to her.
Opening the tiny scroll tied to its leg, El read the message. And dropped the scroll as she froze in horror, staring unseeingly at the bird.
The words ran through her mind. Orcs and spiders in the forest. Dior and Nimloth dead, murdered. Their children, young Eluréd, Elurín and toddler daughter Elwing were missing.
Her nephew and his family had gone on a family picnic this morning, wanting to enjoy the last of the sunlight before Autumn would turn the skies gray and the leaves orange.
They shouldn't have gone.
"Mellon nin," Lindariel asked, pale. Her friend had picked up on her turbulent emotions. "What news does the Queen bring?"
Elarinya barely heard her, too caught up in her rising despair as the news sunk in.
Dior, her sister's precious boy, was gone.
Lúthien had died only a few decades earlier and with her went most of Melian's strength. The wards around Doriath fell, and not even Galadriel could fix them. The orcs returned, sniffing around their territory and now this happened.
Her beloved older sister had held on long enough to see her son happily married before old age finally caught up. She'd been slowly withering away before their eyes, mortality taking its toll. Her sister had been dignified in the face of the end, knowing her son would not be left alone.
From birth it had been obvious that Dior had inherited little of his father's mortality. Her nephew had been born with the pointed ears, the beauty and grace and even the glow of the Eldar.
Only his aging was more in line with that of Man. At first. Dior quickly outpaced his aunt and then stopped aging somewhere in his mid-twenties.
Beren and Lúthien had been so proud to see their boy become a man, so happy to witness him finding happiness of his own with the lovely Nimloth.
They had been holding on for that one last moment in their son's life, and after the wedding it had been obvious that their time was quickly approaching.
Death had come calling for her muinthel and law-brother, and as she had always done, her sister faced it bravely. Her beloved sister got her peaceful ending, curled up together with her beloved as they breathed their last. But for her parents Lúthien's loss was a wound that would never heal.
Just like Elarinya would always mourn the sister she only got to know for a few short centuries and would never see again.
But there were more unforeseen consequences to the loss of Lúthien.
The barrier that protected Doriath against the fell creatures of the Enemy fell, Queen Melian unable to control her powers in her raging grief. Thingol too had been close to fading for a moment. Their saving grace had come in the form of Dior.
Dior, who looked so much like her sister. And Nimloth who came to them exactly a year after the death of Beren and Lúthien, and announced her first pregnancy.
And now the twins were missing.
"My nephew's party was attacked." She said slowly, hands gripping tightly at the reins, knuckles turning white. "Prince Dior and Lady Nimloth have gone to Mandos' Halls, but the children are still missing. I need to go. Now. I need to go look for them."
The others gasped in horror, shaken by the news.
Little Elwing was only a few years old, she had just started to walk and talk and now she was lost in the forest. Elarinya could only hope her little niece was in the company of her brothers. That none of them were alone. She could only pray they were safe, and not with the damnable orcs that killed their parents.
Maedhros stiffened. "We need to start searching the forest for them. We can cover more ground together."
Determination spread through the group, and the five elves quickly turned their horses around. They urged their steads to go as fast as they could, keeping their ears and eyes open for any sign of the missing elflings.
Soon they arrived at the scene, and quickly joined the search. Hanneth and Elarinya, as the healers of the group, went in different directions, each accompanied by a warrior. Just in case.
Lindariel stayed close to El, mouth pressed in a grim line. Her dearest friend knew as well as she did that it didn't look good.
"We'll find them." The silver-haired elleth swore, meeting the eyes of everyone there. "We'll find them and bring them home."
Maedhros nodded curtly, face drawn as he nudged his horse forward, quickly joined by Hanneth and Thalion. "We will, little star. No matter what."
And then they were off.
The people of Doriath had already begun to search the forest, their voices calling out for their missing princes and princess.
"Eluréd!" They called, spreading out. "Elurín! Elwing!"
The forest was dark, and not just because of the approaching night. Darkness had come to Doriath.
Orcs had passed through here recently, crashing through the plants and bushes growing there without a care. And so had Ungoliath's spawn. Webs hung between the trees, blocking the light. Some distance away she could hear Lindariel cursing, a spider screaming as her friend focused her rage on the foul creature.
Good for her.
"Elwing!" El called, using her sword to clear the path from the spiderwebs. "Eluréd, Elurín!"
Elarinya's mouth was pressed in a grim line as she continued to search for any hint of her little niece and nephews. The sun went down and the moon cast a soft light on the dark forest. They searched for hours, and El was starting to lose hope.
"Little ones, Aunty El is here. Please, come out." Her voice broke. "Please!"
Sauron had been quiet in the past century. The watchful peace continued, but that didn't mean there were no incidents. Orcs still attacked, testing boundaries. Spiders and other fell creatures still crawled out of Morgoth's former lands, hungry and vicious.
And sometimes they took instead of just killed.
The foul creatures liked to play with their prey in untold ways and Elarinya prayed such a fate had not befallen the innocent little elflings.
"Nothing here! Just some spiders." Lin called from a few meters away. "I'm going to continue searching over there, alright, El?"
Elarinya's shoulders slumped, "Nothing here either. Go, but be careful."
She nudged her gentle old stead forward, intent to continue searching into the night. Eleniel was old even for an elven-bred horse, but there was none more loyal. Her ears twitched, and El froze.
There, in the bushes.
A teary hiccup.
"Elwing!" Elarinya basically flew off her horse and approached the shivering bush. "Elwing? It's me, your aunty El."
The bush stopped shivering, and a small voice finally called back. "Aunty El?"
"I'm here, honey." She murmured, crouching down. El would crawl into the bush herself if that was what it would take, but she knew that it would be best if her niece could come out herself. "Can you come out, Elwing? Are you hurt? Your grandparents and I were very worried."
"Nana and ada gone." Elwing said quietly, and El flinched. So she'd seen it happen.
The bush rustled again, but this time a tanned little hand appeared. Her niece crawled out, looking like she had been through war. The toddler was covered in dried black and rust-colored fluids and was scratched and bruised all over. Her normally neat dark brown hair, so like Nimloth's, was a bird's nest of tangles.
"Oh, sweetheart." El cooed, gently taking the shivering elfling into her arms. "I am so sorry. So very sorry."
Walking back to Eleniel, El quickly jumped into the saddle, intent on bringing her niece back into the safety of Menegroth and its healers. Finally safe in the arms of her aunt, Elwing burst into exhausted tears.
Elarinya hushed her softly, rocking her and crooning out the lullaby her nephew liked to sing for his children. The little girl keened out her grief before she quieted down, but didn't fall asleep. Instead she stared forward, tiny hand wrapped in the long silver strands of the hair Elarinya shared with Dior, fäe deeply hurt.
Inside El raged at the unfairness of it all. Her nephew and his wife were dead, their two young sons missing and their daughter, barely out of infanthood, was deeply traumatized.
Sauron would pay for this.
She set her jaw, burying her fury. This was not the time to rage. Her niece and nephews needed her. She closed her eyes and breathed. Then she focused her fäe, and started soothing the hurt of the elfling in her arms.
She'd completed her healing training under master Galion in this past century, and was now a fully fledged healer with a specialty in song. She was good, really good. But Elarinya didn't know if she could heal her little niece from this. All Elarinya could do was try.
So she sang, healing Elwing's bumps and bruises. Healing the scratches and soothing her fäe.
In the distance she still heard people calling out for the lost royals, and so she directed her horse that way. They needed to know at least one of the children had been found.
El continued to sing softly under her breath as her old friend carried them towards the city, and her niece slowly relaxed against her for just the tiniest bit.
First she went to Lindariel, whose eyes lit up when she saw the tiny figure sitting in front of Elarinya. The warrior quickly hid her bloody sword behind her back, and smiled.
"Thank the Valar!" She exclaimed, relieved. "You've found her."
"Have any of the others…?"
Their eyes met, and she knew even before her best friend opened her mouth. Eluréd and Elurín hadn't been found yet. Please, El prayed silently, to any who are listening, let them be found.
"Thalion, Hanneth and Lord Maedhros haven't come back yet." Lindariel shared, glancing at the stiff form of the littlest princess. "They went East. Maybe they found them."
"Every other team has returned?"
She nodded. "They have. Not a trace has been found of the two little princes. We fear they might have been carried away."
A chill ran down her spine. Ai Elbereth, she hoped not. Anything but that.
"We need to expand the search. Call in reinforcements." El concluded grimly. "But first, little swan, we need to get you out of this forest."
Lindariel hesitated, shooting a side along glance at Elwing. "Little one, did you see which way your brothers went?"
Elarinya's head swerved to her friend, shocked. It was a logical question to ask, smart even. But this was her niece. Her very traumatized and in shock niece.
Arms wrapping more securely around the frozen little elfling, El held her breath.
"Monster came." Elwing's dead sounding voice broke through the tense silence. "Hurt nana and ada. They said run. Elwing run. Brothers run."
Elarinya blinked away the tears that sprung into her eyes at the knowledge of her nephew's last moments coming out of the mouth of his daughter.
"Hush, sweetheart." El hummed, cuddling the girl close. She frowned, Elwing was cold. Too cold. "You did so well, my love. But now we are going to see Nân and Adadar now, alright? They missed you so."
But the girl had gone stiff and mute again, her words spent. Elarinya exchanged a look with her friend, who nodded grimly. They needed to get the little girl out of these dark woods.
"Come, sweetling. My old girl will carry us home in a heartbeat." She crooned, humming the lullaby under her breath. "Just hold on tight to your aunty, hm?"
Lindariel and Elarinya quickly rode back to the clearing they first started their search from. They'd barely arrived when two horses approached from the East with full speed, and hope bloomed in her chest.
But her heart shattered at the sight that met her.
Maedhros was in the front, with Thalion and Hanneth following closely behind. He was carrying something, they both were. In front of Maedhros, wrapped in his cloak was a small, brown-haired figure.
Dead.
Elwing screamed as the cloak fell away in the wind, revealing the lifeless form of her brother. High-pitched and full of rage and fear, the sound would haunt everyone present for a long time.
Her fäe radiated with it. "Monster!"
Maedhros paled, and she saw the horrified flinch he held back. Elwing had never met Maedhros before, hadn't got the chance to get used to the scarring that covered him. Combined with the shock of today, she should have known she would lash out.
Elarinya quickly turned the elfling away from the gruesome sight, but the harm was already done. Elwing was hysterical.
"Maedhros." She said, heart breaking all over again. "Both of them?"
"I'm sorry, little one." His voice broke. "I am so sorry."
She wished she could scream, let her rage out. She wanted to rage and cry, unleash her fury against those who did this.
But Elarinya couldn't. Not with Elwing in her arms, deaf to the world that took her family away from her. Over and over she mumbled the same word as she shook and cried.
"Monster. Monster. Monster." Elwing chanted, hands coming up to pull harshly at her brown locks.
El flared her fäe in a sharp spike that could be felt from miles away, encasing her niece in it. Urging her to sleep. The child hiccuped tearily, and then finally quieted.
The princes were dead.
My dear friend-
Glorfindel-
Evil was afoot.
That much was obvious. The death of Prince Dior and most of his family seemed to have been the opening move of Morgoth's most favored servant and lieutenant, Sauron.
Morgoth's heir and a Dark Lord on his own merit. A fallen Maia and one of Morgoth's most powerful. Maedhros' torturer and Finrod Felagund's killer. The one who ordered her dear sister-son and his family to be killed.
A foe not to be underestimated.
He'd been quietly and patiently building strength and while Maedhros' Union kept a close eye on Morgoth's former lands, none dared to enter. There were whispers of the horrors happening there to those the orcs brought back to Sauron's evil lair, horrific rumors.
Truth.
They had all seen the bodies of the unfortunate souls caught by the unforgiving darkness brewing in those lands. Elarinya and the other healers had tried to heal those few that still had a beating heart, but it became quickly apparent that their hroä might still be living, but their fäe had long since left.
It was a terrible fate.
There wasn't open war in Beleriand, not yet. Not like the battle of Nirnaeth Arnoediad had been. Not like the battle Fingolfin died in.
No, instead there were a series of brutal attacks. Orc packs going in and out, swiftly slaughtering every living soul before moving on just as quick. Spiders luring weary travelers into their webs, using their venom to paralyze before devouring their prey alive.
Balrogs and dragons using their dark powers to create natural disasters everywhere they went.
It wasn't war. But it wasn't peace either. Not by a long shot.
Something was coming. Something big.
Elarinya didn't have to look in the waters of Ithil to know that. Yet she still looked.
For years she looked, together with her naneth, honing her scrying skills and searching for an answer to that unsettled feeling deep inside her stomach. El had mastered scrying, and together with her healing ability, she was in high demand.
In her newly reached adulthood, Elarinya became a healer, a leader and a spy.
She learned healing under Galion and Hanneth, leadership under Maedhros, Thingol and Fingon. And under Caranthir and her mother she learned the subtle art of spying.
But all the water showed her were her friends in Gondolin. Ecthelion, Idril and her husband (both whom she'd met and befriended while she fostered in Hithlum) and a grinning Glorfindel, who, as always, seemed to know when she was scrying.
Their eyes met.
"Elarinya." She saw him mouth her name, a soft smile curling around his lips. He turned towards their other friends and grinned, "Our dear Aistana has joined us."
Their friends smiled or waved in greeting in the direction the golden-haired elf was looking, long since used to her powers. They couldn't see her, not like Glorfindel could. That the ellon could see her, feel her scrying was still something that boggled her mind.
Her father could feel it when Melian scryed for him, but they had a marriage bond. Elarinya had no such connection to the golden-haired ellon and he could see her scrying ever since before they met.
Yet something had changed between the two of them. She often caught him looking at her, or opening his mouth as if he wanted to ask her something, only to close it again.
It thrilled her and exasperated her in equal measure.
She smiled back, knowing her purple eyes had softened into a look that was obvious to all but the two elves themselves. She'd developed feelings for her friend. Elarinya had denied it for so long, fought against the growing warmth in her chest whenever she saw him, but she could fight it no longer.
Elarinya loved him.
Her golden elf. Her brave and fearsome warrior. A fearsome elf to their enemies, but a patient teacher and considerate lord to their friends and allies. And most of all, her beloved friend.
But she could wait.
Elarinya was still in the beginning of her immortal life, and while she was an adult now, compared to Glorfindel she was still a sapling to his oak.
They had time.
"I must go back to the castle. Apologies for leaving so soon, mellon nîn." Idril said, gripping her husband's hand. "There is much for us to do."
The blonde daughter of Turgon looked tired, stressed. Her husband, the mortal Tuor, didn't appear any less exhausted and El wondered what was going on. This didn't seem like it had anything to do with their young son. Eyeing Glorfindel, she tried to convey her confusion.
"How is Maeglin?" Ecthelion asked before they could leave, tone soft and concerned.
El's head shot their way, ripping her eyes away from the soft blue-green gaze of the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower.
Idril stiffened, lips pressing together. "He pretends everything is well. It is not."
Maeglin had become a friend over the years to Elarinya, but he and Idril had never gotten along. Not truly. Their relationship deteriorated even more when Idril met Tuor, and quickly fell in love. They were first cousins, but Maeglin always held out hope for more, something Idril clearly didn't wish for.
"The darkness is growing." Tuor added, frowning. The couple left, but the ominous words of Tuor made a chill run down her spine. "It won't be long now."
Glorfindel must have seen the worry in her eyes, because he swiftly signaled for her to follow him.
El followed him for a while as he walked through the city of Gondolin, vaguely noting the tense faces of the elves they passed. She frowned, worry growing.
What was going on?
The air was ripe with tension, and she could feel the world holding its breath.
"Maeglin was captured." Glorfindel finally said, expression pensive. He'd let her to a small private courtyard in between the white buildings.
Birds sang cheerily in greeting, but for once Elarinya didn't pay them any attention.
"My apologies for not warning you." He said, eyes wide and sincere. His eyes were more blue than green right now, and El forgave him instantly. "We still don't know what happened to Maeglin."
El blinked, confused.
"Things have changed here. Maeglin has changed." Glorfindel somehow understood her unspoken question, and expanded. "He won't talk about it. It's clear he was tortured, and obviously he escaped, but-"
He fell silent, brows furrowing in frustration.
El came closer, leaning her fäe against his side in an attempt to comfort him. He sighed, and for a moment it felt like he was resting his head atop of hers.
But that was impossible.
"Thank you, mellon nîn." He smiled softly, eyes warm and fond. "You bring me great comfort."
.
.
.
Weeks later and Elarinya was brushing her hair in front of her vanity when an unexpected chirp made her look to the open window. The small brown bird chirped a tired greeting, and El smiled.
Approaching, she gently stroked over his little head with one finger and took the offered note. Unfolding it, Elarinya gasped when a beautiful necklace fell out. It gleamed in the early morning sun, its colors coruscating beautifully on her bedroom walls.
"Glorfindel…" Her awed mutter rang softly through the silence.
Beautifully bejeweled with a pale golden chain and crafted with obvious skill. Eight little golden flowers, with petals of diamond, sapphire and amethyst. A courting gift as only a Noldor could give.
Heart beating rapidly, she couldn't contain her smile. Finally.
She had been this close to offering him her courting gift first, to hell with tradition. But he'd come through after all, if in an unusual way. Normally one gave a courting gift in person, but she wouldn't complain. Not when he finally made the step she'd longed for. El grinned, and lifted her hair up to put on the necklace.
It fit perfectly. The delicate string of flowers falling from her collarbone down to her cleavage. Beautiful, it was utterly beautiful. Elarinya twirled around, grinning from ear to ear. Then her eye fell on the note, and she picked it up to read the words he'd written to her.
She gasped, hand clenching around the letter and mind racing as the images crashed through her brain with the force of a tsunami.
Meaglin, pale and trembling as a disturbingly beautiful red-headed figure caressed his face with a mocking smile. Idril and her little family standing in front of an entrance she'd never seen before. The gates of Gondolin, wide open.
Orcs and balrogs.
Turgon, dying bravely in defense of his people, giving them the chance to flee.
Ecthelion, standing in the center square of Gondolin. Ecthelion, her dear friend, taking his last stand against Gothmog, Lord of the Balrogs. Ecthelion, slaying the once mighty Gothmog with an expression of grim determination, only to fall himself.
Glorfindel, hastily writing out the letter he'd been carrying close to his heart and giving it to the little bird. A grim looking Glorfindel, fighting his way through the overrun city, leading the suvivors of Gondolin through Idril's tunnel, protecting them. Glorfindel and the survivors being ambushed by a horde of orcs and a balrog. Glorfindel, burning brightly and fighting as if his life depended on it.
Eagles screeching, coming to the rescue. People fleeing. People cheering. People screaming.
Glorfindel facing the balrog, long golden hair and armor shining in the sun.
A small, golden-haired figure gently being carried out of the abyss by an eagle. A mournful cry.
She keened softly, heart breaking into a thousand pieces. The letter fluttered down to the ground, Elarinya quickly following. Fingers trembling, she touched the necklace he'd sent to her. The first of his courting gifts. And now, also the last.
Gondolin had fallen.
And with it, so had Glorfindel.
Elarinya,
I'm sorry. Please, forgive me.
I wish-
With all my love,
Glorfindel
A/N: Forgive me?