House of the Golden Flower

With the dawn, every man was in place, armor shining in the sun, spears held high, swords at our sides. We waited in a breathless silence for Fingon's first move. It seemed an eternity before far off and faint; we heard the blast of trumpets.
Our host as one shifted on its feet, but Turgon stayed us with a hand signal - every eye was on him. "Not yet." Those close could hear him say. The rest simply obeyed.

We waited for the trumpets of the host of Meadhros, to see the banners waving high, the dust under their feet, anything. There was nothing at all, for perhaps forty minutes, as the trumpets continued, making the challenge upon Angband.

Turgon's eyes turned toward Thangorodrim, and ours with him, and we all saw dark smoke rise from it, and I felt both relief and terror that the enemy had accepted the challenge to battle. My eyes went to Turgon, and the fierce look on his face gave me strength, courage, minded me of the scarlet cloak on my back, that men saw from afar and looked to for direction.

"Meadhros is not coming." The murmur spread throughout our host with the speed of wind.

When it reached Turgon, he turned his horse to face us. "He cannot stand alone, his strength may be mighty, but there is not enough yet to assail Angband. We must move!" He shouted, and turned his horse and we set out at a fast walk to join Fingon's host, which the forefront of was now was emerging from where they had hidden themselves, to hold reserves in secret.

Ten thousand of us, we rode at that pace, and when we came into sight of them, we were awed at their number, as they were ours.

From afar we heard the cry: "The day has come! Behold, people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, the day has come!" This chant was taken up by the host of Fingon, and when we heard it clearly, Turgon answered, "The night is passing!" Which also we took up, furthering his voice.

When the hosts met, Ecthelion and I with Turgon were gathered into the thick of it, amid Men and Elves, and Turgon leapt down from his horse and embraced his brother, while Ecthelion and I remained mounted, until that is, blonde hair appeared at my knee, and I was tugged down by the leg into Huor's arms. He and his brother both embraced me joyfully - Hurin was short and strong as ever, and Huor grown to manhood in our absence, fuzzy down on his jaw denoting this status.

Then Turgon pulled me forward, along with Ecthelion who had dismounted, and introduced us as his captains to his brother. Fingon looked like Turgon, but older, with a few small inches greater height. He saw what was between Turgon and I, and his bow to me was warmer than need be.

After our welcome, our horses were taken away, as none of the other captains among Fingon's host had them, fearing it would make for greater targets.

Now we turned our attention back to the battle at hand, even as Fingon directed the hosts of Gondolin into reserve and flanks guard, as need be.

The sharpest-eyed among us were the first to see the hosts of Angband slinking over the barren plain of Angfauglith, dressed to match the area, with nothing to catch the sunlight and betray them. We would have fought them there on the plain, but Hurin, with his wise head for battle and quick tongue convinced us to remain where we were, lest it be a trap, for he said: "Beware the guile of Morgoth, whose strength is always greater than it seems, and his purpose other than he reveals."

And so we stood our ground, and waited, but Meadhros did not appear. Again, we wished to strike blades with our foes, but again Hurin advised Fingon and Turgon to hold ground, and let them break themselves over the hills, and be winded when they reached us not not the other way.

At the far end, along the banks of the Sirion, the hosts of the enemy had drawn even with ours, and they were close enough to see one another's eyes, and the orcs called out taunts, but our men held their ground and gripped their swords and spears, and made no answer, nor charged forth, for they had not been commanded.

Messengers flew up and down the line, and of the tactics of the enemy to anger us was one of the most dreadful I had yet heard in that time, for they had brought forth a prisoner, known to the Men in our company, and hewed off his hands and feet, then his head, and left him there in front of our host. Despite Turgon and Fingon's orders not to retaliate, the Men charged forth and slew those who had done it, and dove into the main host.

Our line of defense broken, Turgon and Fingon saw that this was the time to act, and Fingon put on his helm and ordered the trumpets, and with that his host charged forth, leaving Turgon and the reserves behind to hold our ground.

They flew forward over the sands, and fought to the very gates of Angband, and the day was long and filled with blood. The Gondolindrim and those who stayed as reserves shifted uneasily, and slew those who charged us, and as the sun began to set and Fingon had not returned, a large band of orcs took advantage and attacked us, and the fighting was thick, and I drew my first blood and had my very first taste of battle.

I fought back to back with Galdor and Ecthelion to protect our King, and it was very hot where we were crowded close, several times I hit elbows with Turgon while defending him. An Orc slipped past all guard, and even though he was dead before his blow fell, his aim was true and his axe broke the nosegaurd of Turgon's helm.

I took Turgon by the shoulders and turned him to face me in terror, and wiped away the blood I found there flowing. The bridge of his nose was sliced cleanly, but it had been a straight cut and would likely heal without more than a ridge across his nose. His nosegaurd was worthless, I snapped off the bits of metal that were left, lest they cause more damage, and lacking anything better, wiped the blood away with my hair.

"How do I look?" He dared asked me cheekily in the midst of battle.

"Terrible!" I answered, smiling in relief that he was so narrowly unhurt.

We moved aside to avoid Rog's swinging arm, bearing a mighty hammer. Turgon wiped off some of the black Orc blood from my breastplate and looked at his reflection.

"Well, I never was much of a beauty." He said. "You're enough for both of us, I suppose. Back to the fight!" He grinned rakishly.

I shook my head at him, and stuck close for the remainder of the skirmish, but the battle died down after that point considerably.

We kicked the Orcish corpses aside, and waited for Fingon's return, taking turns at sitting to rest all the night. We could hear distantly the sounds of battle in early evening, but by midnight all was quiet but for the breathing of our guards and orcs running past, messengers on their way to wherever. We kept low in the front lines, to allow the archers to pick them off if they could in the dark, and a surprising number fell in the night to arrow wounds.

At dawn he could wait no longer, his worry for his brother was such that he ordered us up onto our feet, and we left the ground we were to hold, with only a remainder of our reserves behind, enough to stand against a few attacks such as the one last night.

We found Fingon and his host nearly to Ered Wethrin, and they were surrounded and evenly numbered when we approached. We dove into battle, the house of the Fountain and the house of the Tree leading, while the house of the King and the Golden Flower guarded Turgon and I valiantly. They cut aside the masses, and gave us clear path, and soon we were at the side of Fingon, and with him was Hurin and Huor still, we were glad to see them.

We began to fight our way back to the reserves with this added strength, and just as we were making progress beneath the hot noonday sun, the trumpets of Meadhros were at last heard, and we beheld him coming from the east, and were glad to see even their banners. They enfolded us with their ranks, and we might have won the day then, for already the orcs attacking us wavered in their onslaught, and many were now turning to flee.

Then, as we made haste back to the mouth of Sirion, Angband was emptied, and the very bowels of that hell unleashed upon us. There came Wargs, and Wargriders, Balrogs and dragons, and the much-famed Glaurung father of dragons. They cut us to pieces from the outside, and when Glaurung swept up between the ranks of Meadhros and Fingon, they were parted.

Now the Easterlings among us fled, and those with the sons of Feanor turned on them, and began to attack from their unprotected back. Under the assault from these three sides the host of Meadhros broke and fled, seeing their only chance for survival, they gathered together as many hale as they could find, and retreated the battle toward the mountains in the east, no longer being in any condition to fight.

The dwarves who had come with them from the east also fought bravely, and withstood the fires of the dragons best, and wounded them, so that they fled in dismay back to Angband. Their leader was killed in this attack, and the dwarves paid no more heed to the battle or the foes after this, loyal only to their own, and they bore him up and returned to their home, and none dared stay them, not while battle was hot, and not after having seen them fight.

Balrogs had fallen upon us in the meantime, and before we could see their plans, they had driven a wedge between our forces, surrounding Fingon and forcing him toward the Fen of Serech. I had to hold Turgon back by bodily force, sheathing my sword, to prevent him charging madly to his brother's defense, hoping to hold him long enough that he would see that he was of no use in aid at this time.

We watched in horror in the midst of our fighting allies as Fingon stood alone amid his dead guard and fought the leader of them, while another came up behind him and cast it's whip about him. Then the first hewed him with his axe, and white flame sprang up from the helm of Fingon as it was cloven. Turgon screamed as they beat him into the dust, the High King of the Noldor.

Hurin and Huor stood still with us, having been among the Gondolindrim as we were parted, and we yet fought for the Pass of Sirion with violence and much loss to the enemy's side. Hurin looked away from the sight of Fingon's death, and Turgon turned his eyes to him, but I did not release him, and Ecthelion stood at hand to restrain him yet.

Hurin said, "Go now, Lord, while there is still time. For in you lives the last hope of the Eldar, and while Gondolin stands Morgoth shall still know fear in his heart."

Turgon replied, "Not long now can Gondolin be hidden; and being discovered it must fall."

Then Huor beside his brother said, "Yet if it stands but a little while, then out of your house shall come the hope of Elves and Men. This I say to you, lord, with the eyes of death: though we part here forever, and I shall not look upon your white walls again, from you and from me a new star shall arise. Farewell!"

Turgon did not wish to go, but I knew he was considering it, and I knew that Hurin's words were true - only now while there was still time did we have a chance at flight. I looked around me to anyone who could convince Turgon to take their advice, anyone. Ecthelion's eyes were averted, and Maeglin stood dispassionately to one side. I looked at him with pleading eyes, and he turned away from me.

At length Turgon fought to be free of me, and I released him warily. He leaned forward, and bowed low to Hurin and Huor, then turned to Ecthelion and I. "We retreat. Hurin and Huor will hold the pass behind us, and you will guard the flanks."

I embraced Hurin and Huor farewell, told them that I would tell Idril I had seen them, and send along their love and memory, then went to do my King's bidding.

With the Golden Flower I held the right of our host, and our feet were in the river as we killed the orcs that would pass us by and ambush us ahead. Several times my men had to shoot with arrows the messengers on the banks, in the thick brush there.

Ecthelion had the left side, and the Fountain's swords clanged constantly as they destroyed assailants from the cliff face, or those climbing along it to get ahead.

At last we outpaced them, and came to our camp, and there the wounded were given care, and the rest of us given drink and rest. I went into Turgon's tent with him, and none argued, and Maeglin followed with us, saying it was to guard us if need be, and all three of us lay on the ground in full armor, our weapons at our sides, and slept in the dirt with exhaustion.

We woke again when day ended, and the cool of the evening chilled us awake. Maeglin and I slept with Turgon between us, and both stirred when he was the first to rise.

Our joints felt feverish and sore as we rose, and Maeglin left the tent before Turgon and I removed one another's armor and dropped it on the floor before going out barefoot and in our leggings and tunics, stiff with dried sweat and dirt and blood from the long battle. We went down to the river, where many of our company were, and bathed and soaked. My hair was filthy, matted with blood and dirt.

Turgon and I held our breath and anchored ourselves with weeds to the bottom of the river to let the dirt soak off us, then scrubbed each other briskly with sand.

When we were clean, we went back up to the tent, and I brought my bed there, and after we ate, we slept again, until nearly noon of the next day.