House of the Golden Flower

*Glares at Siobhan* Siobe...


That night as we lay in the tangles of passion-twisted blankets, limbs intertwined, my head on his chest and his hands in my hair, he told me of his sister Aredhel, who was forever lost to him.
"It was two hundred years after Ondolinde was finished, when she so greatly desired to leave my city, tiring of life here, that she came to me." He rumbled quietly under my ear. I stroked his ribs comfortingly, listening.

"I did not want her to leave, and I put it off for a very long time. After awhile I let her go, saying ‘Go then, if you will, though it is against my wisdom, and I forbode ill will come of it both to you and to me.’ For I had a very bad feeling about it, that I now know to be justified.

I released her, saying ‘But you shall only go to seek Fingon, our brother; and those that I send with you shall return hither to Gondolin as swiftly as they may.’ Thinking that she should be safe in my brother’s house, and that haste should bind the tongues of those accompanying her rather well, that they should keep my city secret."

He paused here, composing his thoughts or consulting memory, and I trailed my fingers in soothing circles over the flat hard plain of his belly. He began again, a trace of sadness in his voice.

"Aredhel was always difficult with me, I think she did it to be sure I had her attention. She said then ‘I am your sister and not your servant, and beyond your bounds I will go as seems good to me. And if you begrudge me an escort, then I will go alone.’ Which meant to me that she was not only being stubborn, but that she didn’t understand the last part of what I had said. I replied ‘I grudge you nothing that I have. Yet I desire that none shall dwell beyond my walls who know the way hither; and if I trust you, my sister, others I trust les to keep guard on their tongues.’ And then I sent her with three lords of my house, and Ecthelion with them.

I told them to take her to Fingon in Hithlum, if they could. And I warned them be on their guard, for there were many evils still abroad in this land of which she did not know. And then she left, and I was angry with myself for having let her leave. I knew I shouldn’t have let her go, and I did it anyway."

Turgon broke off at this point, vainly attempting to stifle tears for my sake. I crawled higher into his arms and kissed his quivering lips, then held his head to my chest and rocked him gently, waiting for him to calm and go on. Several of his tears skittered over and dried slowly on my bare skin before he was once again able to speak.

"And at the Ford of Brithiach in the River Sirion she changed her course, heading not north to Hithlum, but rather south to find her old friends, the sons of Feanor. Such foolishness! I should not have let her go, Glorfindel, I should not have."

I held him close at this point, and stroked his hair until he relaxed and went on.

"They went to Doriath, but Thingol’s march-wardens denied them access, as Thingol will allow no Noldor into Doriath but save his kin of the house of Finarfin, and certainly not those friends with the sons of Feanor. They told her the way to go around to seek out where Celegorm and Curufin dwelt in those days, and though the road was dangerous, my stubborn sister went.

They went through the haunted valleys of Ered Gorgoroth and around the north borders of Doriath, and as they rode near Nan Dungortheb shadows like night fell upon them, and Aredhel strayed from her escort and was lost."

He stopped suddenly and I felt fresh tears on my chest. I rubbed his back and kissed his hair drowsily, fearing that I should sleep through the tale of my mate’s sorrow I pinched my forearm repeatedly to overcome the tiredness I felt. As ever, Turgon persevered, and in a tear-roughened voice began anew.

"They searched for her, but never found her or evidence she had met with an evil fate. The creatures of Ungoliant that dwelt in the ravines were wakened by their presence, and attacked them, and they barely escaped with their lives.

When they returned and told us the tale, my city wept as I sat alone in the garden tended by her hand, angry with myself, angry with her, and sorrowed above all.

It was then that I decided I would go to you, try to find you. As soon as the seasons allowed, I called for one of the great eagles of Manwe to see fit to bring me to you one last time. My request was granted, and when I came to your valley I heard you screaming, and I wept because you were in so much pain and because you were still alive. I was both sorrowed that you endured and hopeful and selfishly glad that you yet lived."

He broke into sobs now, weeping against my chest and I cradled him close, remembering something of that time’s agony. He pulled away suddenly and took my face in my hands, looking deep into my eyes as he spoke.

"You were dying Glorfindel, dying of grief and lonliness, one of the most painful ways for elves to die. You were such a bright strong flame, even when you were dimmed and cooled by the frost of death’s breath, you still burned. I wanted that fire, I wanted you. You touched me, and let me touch you, and when you laughed under me with tears in your eyes I lost my heart to you. I loved you then, and I love you now, and I pray to the Valar that I always will."

I was weeping now, our tears mingled as I had pressed my cheek against his, holding him so tight it seemed as if we would meld together into the being we had already become, his thumb traced over the cut on my neck, and he bent and kissed the wound he had inflicted, and suddenly an heir didn’t matter anymore.

For a moment, it just didn’t matter.