Chapter One- The Royal Family

All I felt was blackness. All I saw was blackness. My head spun, and color spots appeared and evaporated in my eyes. I wasn’t strong enough to open them. My body felt heavy and limp, but clean, and warm. I was blissfully unaware of everything. It seemed to stay like that for eternity, and I must have fallen asleep. When I woke, I could not move. But I clearly felt the presence of others around me. As I began to be aware of my senses, I could hear a conversation taking place, and I could hear bustling about the room.

“Be quiet, Tithen!” said a voice. I felt someone sit on the edge of my bed. The voice was young, and reminded my a bit of my Naneth’s….only younger. Her voice was cultured and refined.

“Begging your pardon, my lady. Anything I can get for you?”

I felt a small hand laid on my brow. “Give me a cool cloth, Tithen, she’s burning up.”

“Yes my lady.”

I heard the older woman leave the room. The young woman began humming a beautiful tune. Her voice was like a dove. I could hear approaching footsteps, and the woman on my bed sat up instantly. “My lord!” she exclaimed, seemingly a little flustered.

“Good morning, Silverfoot. How is the girl?” he asked, in a quiet tone.

The woman sat back down on my bed. “Poor thing…she’s very hot.” I felt her hand on my forehead again for a moment. “She must have had quite a trial, Tuor.”

The man called Tuor stepped further into the room. His voice was low when he spoke. “It is as I thought, Idril. Exactly.”

The woman’s voice expressed gratitude. “How glad I am that Father loves you so much, Tuor. He didn’t know what to do when the girl came to us.”

The man called Tuor sat down on the other side of the bed, a ways below my feet. “I could not mistake the warning of Ulmo, my dear. I never have been able to.” They both laughed, and the girl moved closer to him.

“How glad I am of that; we all are. You never would have come to us, if not for the guidance of the Valar.”

I could hear another person enter the room, and I supposed it was the older woman. I was now fully aware of my surroundings, but I continued to pretend I was asleep. Tuor bid farewell to the woman called Tithen, and to Idril, and swiftly walked out. Tithen must have given the cloth to Idril, for I presently felt it on my brow.

“My lady,” said Tithen. “I still do not understand, how on earth….”

Idril laughed, straightening out my bed sheets. “I am so sorry you were never told, my dear. Father does wish to keep it quiet for now. But I’ll tell you anyhow. Lord Tuor was spoken to by Ulmo again.” Tithen gasped. “Oh Tithen, don’t put on so. You know how the Gods favor him, as they favor my father. As I was saying, we were told that a great love of the Valar would be bestowed upon us, someone who was highly in their favor. Lo and behold, not too long after that, the great birds of Manwë simply dropped her into the courtyard. Father nearly died of shock.” Idril giggled.

“That does indeed seem amusing, my lady. But, my! How long she has been asleep.” I felt that now would be the appropriate time to wake up. I opened my eyes slowly, color and light flooding my vision. It hurt. The woman Tithen gasped aloud.

Idril took my hand as I continued to get used to the light. I was still beyond seeing anything, but for blurs. “Oh, oh my. Ti-Tithen get Father. Hurry!” Tithen ran out of the room. A few minutes passed and I was able to see. I looked around my surroundings, wide-eyed. The room was beautiful. Elaborate tapestries hung from the white walls. The bedposts were deep, rich wood, and the bed sheets were pure white. “My dear,” said Idril, and I turned my head to look at her. She dimmed the beauty of the room, so grand was she. More beautiful than Andúnë, more innocent, more elegant. She had bright golden hair of the most perfect hue, large blue eyes, and delicate, pale skin. She was a perfect beauty. “Can you hear me?” she asked quietly.

“Aye, my lady. Indeed I can.”

A smile broke across her face. “Oh! You’re awake!” Her bright smile reminded me of a young girls’.

I pushed myself up on the soft pillows, still looking around. “Where am I?” I asked, putting my hand to my head. I felt slightly dazed.

The beautiful young woman smiled. “Why, you’re in Gondolin, my dear. We’ve been expecting you.”

Suddenly the door was flung open again, and a tall Elf walked in. He seemed old. He wore a thin crown atop his hair. “I see you’ve finally awoken, my child. I am Turgon, King of Ondolindë.” He smiled a smile that reminded me of my Ada. “Welcome to Gondolin!”

My eyes widened. I had done it. I had finally arrived in Gondolin. As I felt the blue stone around my neck I remembered the reason I came here. As I felt the thin silver band on my finger I remembered the reason I had nearly abandoned my purpose. My heart broke all over again. Now there was no way I would ever see my husband again.

Idril looked down to my left hand and a sorrowful expression crossed her face. She then met my eyes. “What is your name?” she asked softly.

I closed my eyes, thinking. I could not keep the old one. And I would only be called Brethel by one other. I looked up and met Idril’s eyes. “Rána, my lady,” I said softly. “Of the Noldor in Nargothrond.”

Turgon’s eyes widened, and he looked closely at me. “I was at the burning of the ships, my girl,” he said. “Though I was with those left across the water. I am of the House of Fingolfin.”

I looked down. My parents had never told me of that time, of which House they belonged to. “I was not born at the time, my lord,” I replied. “Though my parents were there…..of whether they were of the House Fëanor, I cannot tell…”

Idril took my hand, looking sadly into my face. “Well, you’re safe now, Rána,” she said. “But tell me, why did you come here?”

“I was commanded by Fui Nienna to journey here, after I left my home.”

“Nargothrond?” asked Turgon, cocking his head as though he were thinking. I nodded. “Why did you leave your home?” he asked.

I closed my eyes. “My family had been brought trouble. I could not stay.” Maeglin. He had married Andúnë, fathered her child, brought an attack upon my city, and caused my Ada to be slain.

Idril looked at me as though she was feeling every bit of my sadness, then spoke a few words to Turgon in a different tongue. The Grey-tongue, as I recognized it. After he left, she began to sing to me. Her melodic voice was the most comforting thing I had ever heard. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, dreaming all the while of an Elf of Doriath with large, sea-green eyes….

Chapter Two- The White City

It was about a week until I had fully recovered my strength. Princess Idril was my constant helper, and I got to befriend her, and her nurse Tithen, before very long. After I was able to get out of bed and walk around, I discovered that I was in the King’s Tower, right next to Idril’s room. I was kept in the Tower for a long time, and was not allowed to see anyone besides the Royal family and their servants, with occasionally the exception of Idril Celebrindal’s friend, Tuor. He was a great friend to the family.

One of my greatest pleasures during my recovering time was to go out onto the balcony of the main floor of the Tower and gaze out into the city. Gondolin was like another world, gleaming white, as though it was carved from a pearl. The banners of the King fluttered in the morning breeze as the sun rose over the Encircling Mountains. The air was fresh, and clean, and I could hear the bustling of the city below. It was grand and large, with many levels. How I longed to leave the Tower and explore! But Idril was a good nurse, and would hardly let me out of her sight until I was quite well.

One morning, after I had dressed myself and eaten breakfast with Tithen, I went out to the balcony. The sun was up, and the sky was perfectly blue. I could hear the city awake below, the laughter of children, the rolling of carts and wagons. There was not a cloud in the sky, though a soft, cool breeze blew by to soften the warmth of the sun. It was like I was overlooking a dream world. I heard footsteps next to me, and looked over to see Tuor.

“Good morning, Rána,” he said.

“Good morning, my lord,” I said softly. Unwillingly, tears suddenly sprung to my eyes, and I looked away. I had seen Tuor with Idril, and it was clear that they loved each other very much. He reminded me now of Ihaden. He had dark hair, shorter than Elves wear it, with pale grey eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, turning his eyes to gaze out over the city.

“Yes,” I said, blinking back my tears. I smiled over at him. “Though, Celebrindal is a bit overprotective….”

Tuor laughed, his eyes sparkling. “And you are no doubt longing to get out into the city.” His eyes fell. “I felt the same way when I first arrived here. Though, for one of the race of Men, I was welcomed heartily.” I did find it strange that Tuor was a human, living in an Elven kingdom. And, what’s more, he was in love with the princess! Yet the King Turgon seemed to like him a great deal. Tuor looked down at my ring finger. I knew what he was thinking. I had been here long, and yet I had mentioned nothing of a husband. It was more like I was not married, anyway, but I couldn’t bear to take the ring off. It was all I had left of Ihaden. Instead of mentioning it, Tuor’s eyes sparkled, and he looked deeply into mine. “I hear that you of favored amongst the Gods.”

I laughed spitefully. What a joke. My life had been torn apart and then thrown in shambles. I thought once that I was favored by the Valar, because they had given me such a powerful gift…but it was not so. My heart had been broken so many times. “Perhaps, my lord Tuor,” I responded softly.

“You have been through many trials, I see,” he said, looking into my face, then at my ring. “But there is no doubt among any that you are special. You have been granted an audience with one whom most only speak of.”

I looked down over the railing, my hair falling over my face. “If I am indeed in good favor with the Valar, they have an odd way of showing it.”

“Rána, I have been through many a trial and come within an inch of my life many times,” he said sternly. “The Valar have no duty to make my life easier. Yet I listen to their counsel and follow their direction, even when I cannot see all ends.” He looked into my eyes. “I can clearly see that your heart has been trampled upon many a time, and you cannot see yet why you are here.” He smiled. “I did not see fully, but now I do.” I knew he spoke of Idril. Tears came to my eyes again. He came to Gondolin to find his true love. I came, and in doing so left my true love. He smiled gently at me, and placed his hand on my shoulder. “We are much alike, you and I,” he said.

I smiled at him, then looked back over the city. “Tirion in Aman must have looked like this…” I said.

He nodded. “Idril has told me of Túna and of Valinor,” he said.

I looked over at him and blinked. “Idril has seen the Blessed Lands?” She seemed so very young, even for an Elf.

“Yes,” he said. “She was born in the years of the Trees.” He looked down at the floor. “She also made the journey across Helcaraxë, where Elenwë, her mother, fell.”

“Oh,” I said softly. I doubted my parents had made that crossing…they had never spoken of it.

Tuor sensed my uneasiness, I supposed, and he smiled up into the sky as a bird flew by. “Did you know that both the King and I have spoken with Ulmo?” I shook my head no- I had not. He laughed. “Turgon was summoned to find this place by The Lord of the Waters, and then I was summoned to…save it,” he added slowly.

I cocked my head. “What do you mean, Tuor?” To save this city? What could possibly happen to it? It was securely hidden within the Encircling Mountains.

He leaned on the balcony railing with his forearms, clenching his fists. “Turgon is a stubborn man, Rána, never forget that.” He looked up into the sky. “He has such pride in his city, sometimes he will not listen to even a messenger of the Gods.” He looked into my eyes. “I was sent here by Ulmo to deliver the message that Gondolin would be destroyed- that Turgon was to get his people out of here.”

My eyes widened. I had been sent here on the eve of the destruction of Gondolin?! But no, it couldn’t be. Not a soul could find this place. “I cannot believe it, Tuor,” I said softly. “I believe you,” I added quickly, “but it is hard to swallow, I must admit.”

He shrugged, squinting, and looking down into the streets below. “I know,” he said.

We heard footsteps behind us, suddenly, and looked around to see a smiling Idril Celebrindal. “Rána!” she exclaimed, embracing me. “You look worlds better.” She cupped my face with one hand and her blue eyes sparkled.

“Thank you my lady,” I replied with a soft smile.

Tuor cleared his throat loudly behind her, and she turned around, laughing. They were just in earshot of me, on the opposite end of the balcony, as their voices were soft. “Good morning to you, Tuor,” Idril said softly.

Tuor smiled and bent down to press a tender kiss on her ruby lips. After a moment she pushed him off, laughing, her face a little red. She saw that I watched them. “Tuor!” she said, still laughing. He grinned and folded his arms.

“It’s alright, my lady,” I said, laughing. “You go ahead.”

“There’s nothing to go ahead with, Rána,” she said, her eyes sparkling, sending her elbow into Tuor’s stomach. He chuckled, and she walked over to me. She kissed my forehead. “You seem to me to be ever so much better, and therefore, I pronounce you well.”

I blinked in surprise. “My lady?” I asked with a grin.

She laughed, her voice like an angel. “You heard me Rána! Now,” she said, and grabbed my arm. “It is high time you saw this fair city!” I gave a little shout of joy as we ran into the hall.

Tuor followed us. “Shall I come as well, my lady?” he called.

Idril winked at me, then turned to Tuor with her arms crossed. “Certainly not! A mortal man as rude as you have been, deserves not to be in the presence of such grand and refined women as Rána and myself.” He grinned at us before we ran for the staircase.

I buzzed with excitement as we raced down the stone steps of the King’s Tower. Idril once nearly tripped over her dress. As we skidded to a stop and the bottom we were both giggling very hard. The staircase and landing were as dark as night compared to what it was like when we descended into the street. The light poured in from high over the mountains, and there was music and talking and all sorts of noise. Idril led me through the streets and levels, happily chatting. I was content to look around in wonder at all that I saw. We passed a group of children outside a house, laughing and running around and talking in both Noldorin and Sindarin. One was perched upon a barrel playing a flute. I smiled as I passed them, and one of the little ones waved to me. She had sparkling eyes and long dark hair. She reminded me of my Nana.

Idril looked to me when we had been walking for a long time. “What do you think, Rána? Is it all not splendid?”

I nodded in awe. “I could live here for the rest of my life. I don’t see how anyone would ever wish to leave.”

Idril looked at her feet as we slowed our walk. “One did, upon a time,” she said softly. I cocked my head to the side, wondering. I nodded for her to go on. She sighed sadly. “It was my aunt, Rána,” she said softly, “Father’s younger sister. She grew weary of staying in this city all the time.”

“Can no one leave?” I asked. She shook her head, and my eyes widened. I supposed that now I had no choice but to dwell here forever. “Go on, my friend,” I said, placing my hand comfortingly on hers.

We resumed our slow walk again, she looking around, but never looking at me. “Aredhel was her name, and Ar-Feiniel. The White Lady of our city she was. I loved her dearly. She used to love riding greatly, and had a strong spirit. She desired to see some of our kin that lived far away. Father would not hear of it. Finally she persuaded him to allow her to go, but he made her go with escorts.” Idril sighed again. “A very long time passed before she came home again. When she finally did come, she brought with her a son! He was a kind, handsome boy then,” Idril said, and I smiled. But her smile in return was bleak. The only sounds for a while were the bustling of the city and the stone road beneath our feet. “The boy was beautiful, and favored more his mother’s Noldorin kin than that of his Sindarin father’s. But….”

Her voice trailed off. She looked away. I took her hand. “You need not continue, my lady, if it brings you such pain.”

She nodded. “Yes, thank you. I shall certainly continue another time.” She laughed a hollow laugh, and her features looked tired. “I’ve no doubt you shall soon learn of every little evil family secret we have.” I smiled and squeezed her hand.

Chapter Three- A Shoulder To Rest On

I spent my days in a bedroom near Idril’s, or wandering the city streets, or visiting with my acquaintances in the King’s Tower. I soon learned that it was the early days of the year four-hundred and ninety-five. It was just coming in to be spring. The flowered trees of the city began to bloom, and the grass of the courtyards were becoming a bright green. I discovered something wonderful in the King’s courtyard, very soon after I was well.

There, standing side by side in the green of the grass, were two beautiful trees. One had blossoms shining of silver, and another was gold. As I stood there with Idril I was stunned. The trees of Valinor? It could not be!

Idril smiled at me. “They were made by my father, are they not marvelous?”

“I have not laid eyes upon the glory of the true Trees, my lady, but these cannot be far from it.”

Idril’s eyes were a little downcast. “No, Rána, nothing could truly compare to Laurelin and Telperion…except, perhaps, the Silmarils.” I nodded. She took my hand. “Come, my dear, it is time to eat.”

I dined that day with Idril, the King, Tuor, and his friend Voronwë. Voronwë was a guard of the City Gate. I sat near the end of the table, talking with Idril, and Tithen served the food.

“Idril,” I said slowly, picking at my food. “Do you think you would ever…marry Tuor?”

Her blue eyes lit up, but her facial expression didn’t change. She looked pleased, but also solemn. “Perhaps,” she said softly. Her smile widened, and she leant toward me more. “I think so, Rána, for Father does love him nearly as well as I do.” Her eyes glittered. “I should like to, someday.”

After dinner I retired to my rooms. I lay on my bed for a long while, just watching out my window. The light of the orange sun reflected off the waters of the fountains and the ivory marble. I knelt next to my open window, leaning my arms on the sill, letting the fading light creep in window as the sun sank slowly beneath the white walls of the city and Ered Wethrin. In the dusk the White City was a faded rainbow with the cool evening breeze. The dusk seemed to mirror me. When I was with Ihaden, it was the sweet dawn. Everything seemed beautiful and fresh and light and love. Now he was gone. My sun. He was setting on my life…soon to disappear forever from me, my thoughts. But never my memory.

“Rána?” Idril asked softly. I could hear the door creak open a tiny bit. I stood up and faced her, seeing her golden head peep through the door. She smiled at me. “May I come in?” she asked.

I nodded, sitting cross legged on the bed. She sat down as well. “Is there something wrong, Celebrindal?” I asked quietly.

She stared out the window, as if lost in space. The light of the dusk was reflected in her eyes. Then they wandered to meet mine. Her voice was a little rough, when she spoke, and very cautious. She took my hand with both of hers. “Rána, my dear friend,” she said. It was my left hand she held. She gently fingered the ring Ihaden had given to me. “Will you not tell me?” I swallowed hard. “You have not spoken of a husband to us.”

I was silent for many moments, staring very hard at the floor. I closed my eyes, heaving a sigh. It was time. I look at Idril. “I do have a husband.”

“Did he die, mellon nín?” she asked.

I shook my head, pressing down a sob. I was as good as dead to him, though. We would never see each other again. “He lives in Doriath.” Her expression was puzzled. “I met him late last summer, on my way to find your city. He….” I stopped myself, realizing that there were tears in my eyes. “I knew he could not come with me to Gondolin- it was not the will of the Gods. However, I loved him too well to give him up, so we were wed.”

Idril took my other hand, her brow creased in deep sympathy. I began telling her more about Ihaden, and when we had met, and about how I had left him after our wedding night. I kept the steady tone of my voice, but after a while I could feel tears on my face. I looked down, fiddling with my fingers. “I’m sorry, Idril,” I muttered. “It was foolish of me to burden you of my troubles.”

Idril put her arms around me, and I leaned on her shoulder. I had not had a shoulder to rest on since Ihaden.

Chapter Four- Time

My home became Gondolin. There was, of course, the fact that Turgon would not allow anyone to leave the fair city…but in my heart Gondolin did become my true home. I wondered at my old life amongst the hills and caves of Nargothrond. My skin grew tanned with the bright sun that was overhead each day. I grew accustomed to the sights, smells, and sounds of the beautiful city. I became less of a warrior and more of a woman. My weapons and gear were hidden away in a closet, now, simply collecting dust. As my Noldorin accent became softer, and I learned to take on the tongue of the Sindar, I was hardly the girl I used to be. I laughed more readily, I talked more freely, I walked about in the sunshine, I helped Tithen with the work; washing clothes, cooking, and cleaning. Idril even taught me how to sew.

Yet, deep in my very heart, I was not fully content. I was very happy with my life, my life that never changed. Every day was a new day, but all days ran together. I did miss my sweet woods of Nan-Tathren. I did miss roaming about the hills at night. I missed the weight of my sword on my hip, and the feel of my bow against my shoulders. I missed targeting my prey, my blood pumping, and fitting a sleek arrow to my bow. It was the child that I was. Iell Maethor. Warrior Girl. Of all the people I knew before, I missed Ada and Ihaden the most. I thought of them all the time. They had taught me the most out of anyone I ever knew. Ada had taught me to fight- I was his girl. Ihaden had taught me to love, with a love greater than I thought I had inside me.

I did wonder, however, as the time rolled on inside the white walls of Gondolin, if I was still the weapons mistress I used to be. I used to be able to wield a sword, dagger and bow, but I hadn’t used them for so long….

For many years I lived in the White City, my old life and habits slowly shedding away. It was nearly spring again, on the seventh year of my life in Gondolin. I walked along the cobblestone path, which eventually ended in the stairway to the King’s Tower. I did not live there anymore, but I spent more time there than I did in my own little house. I looked out the corner of my eye to the young Elves romping around the streets. Mere teenagers. I had watched them grow up from toddlers. I hailed them with one arm- the other being occupied by my basket. They smiled and ran over to me, chatting rapidly in Sindarin. They were all smiles.

“Rána, Rána!” they called, the younger ones hopping up or standing on their toes to see what filled my basket. It was laden with flowers, and there was one lone blossom of pure silver that sat on top. One little girl with fair hair and wide eyes looked up at me.

“Oh my lady!” she called. “Where did you ever get that pretty flower?”

I laughed, heaving the basket atop my head. There was a unanimous groan from the children. “It is a blossom of Belthil, little ones,” I said. “And I cannot possibly let any of you have it!”

“Why not?!” was the cry. I saw some pouts amongst the little ones.

I bent down, still holding the basket on my head. “It’s a secret!” I cried in a whisper. “Because today is the Princess’s begetting day!”

The little ones shouted with delight and clapped their hands over their mouths, their eyes twinkling. Just because I loved them so, I gave them each a small common flower. They thanked me, the little ones kissed me, and they ran back to their play.

I tucked the basket under my arm and continued walking. My long silver braid bounced again my back, my leather sandals made a pitter patter on the stone streets, and I hummed a tune under my breath. I wore a long blue dress that Idril had given me on my last begetting day. The hem of the shirt brushed the tops of my sandals when I walked. The morning sun was shining brightly, and the city seemed peaceful enough, but I knew that the King’s Tower was all in a bustle. As I reached the foot of the stairway, I looked to my right and saw a small white house, hewn from the white rock wall like every other house. It had a lone window with white drapes, a wooden door, and a doormat. It was my own house. I did not stop there, however, but continued up the stairs, the echo of my footsteps bouncing off the walls.

When I reached the top, there were servants being sent hither and thither, a red faced Tithen commanding them all from the far end of the landing. I maneuvered through them, trying to keep the basket aloft so my flowers would not be crushed. “Tithen!” I cried. “Where is Idril?”

Her eyes darted back and forth, but she did manage to produce a weary smile. “Yes, good morning Rána. Celebrindal is in her room.”

I made my way over to the door of the Princess’s room. Quietly I knocked. “Tolo ned,” I heard her say softly. I creaked the door open, poking in my head. Idril sat on the foot of her bed, her small, sandaled feel planted firmly on the floor. She rested her head in her hands, bending forward, her golden hair falling about her face. She looked up at me. Her face seemed tired. “Ah, Rána,” she said. She lifted her head and scooted over, patting the bed beside her.

I walked over, setting the basket on the floor. I lifted the Belthil blossom from the top and stooped to the floor, tying it to the strap of one of Idril’s sandals. I then sat beside her on the bed, kissed her ruddy cheek, and handed her the basket of flowers. “Edinor Veren, My Lady!”

A smile bloomed on Idril’s face. She seemed weary, almost upset about something, but she was cheerful in spite of herself. She wrapped her arms around me. “Thank you so much, Rána!” she cried.

I smiled at her. “Silverfoot.” She laughed. When she sat back, I saw a glimmer of something in her bright blue eye. I took her hand in mine. “There’s something bothering you, Idril.” She looked at the floor. “Pedo!” I urged.

She sighed, and I saw her eyes were blank and almost lifeless. “I don’t know, Rána…I’m not sure. This is my begetting day, yes, but…I feel like something’s wrong. I can’t put a finger on it…”

I could. For the last seven years, Tuor had lived in Gondolin, and had yet to ask for Turgon’s permission to marry Idril. Men…. I took her other hand, holding them both tightly. “Do not worry, my lady. Today will be a special day for you, I promise!”

She smiled a little more hopefully. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Well!” she exclaimed, standing. “I had better go help Tithen! It will take many hands to prepare for the dinner tonight!”

All day Idril and I assisted Tithen in preparing for the grand feast which was always held on any special occasion. Turgon especially revered Idril’s day of celebration, for she was his pride and joy! Tithen at first protested to us helping her- but Idril won out in the end. There was just too much work for the nurse to handle by herself.

Until about dusk we ran all around the tower, fixing curtains, washing tablecloths, sewing things that needed to be mended before tonight. Then, when it was about an hour before the feast was set to begin, I took Idril into her room to help her get ready. We agreed on a long red dress that hung limply in her closet. The last time she had worn it, she said, was before she met me. It was lovely in contrast to her. It fit close to her sleek body, before pooling about her feet and just resting on the tops of her sandals. I brushed out her long, loose golden curls until they tumbled down to the small of her back. We then rummaged through her drawers until she found a stunning gold necklace set with a single red ruby. As I fastened it on her, she told me that it had been her mother’s.

I stepped back to look her over. Her bright blue eyes were shining, and her mouth was upturned in an excited smile. The bold red against her fair skin and golden hair made her look positively angelic. She was the loveliest creature I had ever laid eyes on. I clapped my hands together once, smiling broadly. “Oh my lady!” I cried. “You look so beautiful!”

She gave me an excited embrace and a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you so much, my dear! Now, I must run off to make sure Tithen’s ready.” She grabbed me by my arm and dragged me out the door, pushing in the direction of my house. “Now you go get ready!” she cried, laughing. “I’ll see you in a little.” I smiled to myself as she raced through the hall, her hair bouncing against her back.

Chapter Five- The Celebration

As I walked into the banquet hall of the King’s Tower, I felt very dressed up. I wore my braid wound up in a low bun, and I had on my dress of dark blue cloth that was similar in make to Idril’s, save that hers was silk. I too wore a blossom of Belthil on my sandal. Idril had said I might. There were mainly servants in the grand room, but Turgon was at the head of the table conversing with some important looking Ellyn. Neither Idril nor Tithen was in view.

“Welcome to the party, Rána!” said a familiar voice just beside me.

I spun around quickly, rather surprised, but then laughed to see Tuor. He took my hand and kissed it, then smiled up at me. He had a mysterious twinkle in his grey eyes. I chuckled. “Yes, thank you Tuor.”

“I hear tonight will be a night to remember.” I nodded slowly, wondering what on earth Tuor was planning. I knew he was up to something. He took my hand and led me to a seat next to Idril’s empty chair. “And not a word of any of your suspicions to Silverfoot,” he breathed, eyeing me.

I nodded, keeping laughter inside of me. “Very well, Lord Tuor.”

Soon Idril and Tithen began bringing out platters of food, and guests began to trail in. I instantly sat up and commanded Idril to her seat so that I could help Tithen. She laughed and kissed me, but didn’t protest. I watched to see her take her seat beside Turgon, then commenced in bringing more food to the table. Tithen laughed when she saw me, a flyaway strand of her hair falling into her face. “Well I’ll say, Miss Rána, you’re the fanciest looking servant I’ve ever laid eyes upon!”

I smiled at her, setting a heavy tray with what looked like roast duck in the center of the table. “Aye, well, good evening to you too Tithen.”

Soon after all the preparations were done, and the guests all seated, the servants quietly left and I quietly took my place next to Idril. Turgon was at the head of the table, and Tuor was sitting right across from Idril. He smiled at her, and she blushed a little, grinning. Turgon stood up, lifting his wine glass in the air. “I propose a toast!” he said, smiling broadly at all his guests. “To my lovely daughter, Idril Celebrindal, the very jewel of our fair city. May she forever live in bliss and peace. To the Princess!” he said, looking fondly at his daughter.

“To the Princess!” the guests echoed, standing and holding out their glasses.

Tuor stood as well, staring into Idril’s eyes. “To the Princess,” he whispered, and all drank of their cups.

Just then the minstrels began to play a lively tune, and all at the table were laughing and eating and drinking. I had seen a good many of these feasts during my time in Gondolin, but I was always amused and amazed by them. They were so grand, so large, and so merry. I ate my food quietly, hardly speaking, (and if speaking doing only so to Idril or Tuor) just looking around the table, my eyes sparkling with delight. I would be four-hundred years old at my next begetting day, but I felt like a small girl just taking in the wonder of the Elven party.

It had been at least an hour, and all the food was nearly eaten. Idril looked over at me and laughed. “You never seem to get used to Ada’s banquets.” I shook my head, all smiles. “Well,” she continued. “The dancing is nearly about to begin. I do hope you’ve been practicing,” she giggled.

Suddenly Turgon stood and clapped his hands once, loudly, and the servants rushed back into the room and began clearing the table. All the ladies and gentlemen stood up and moved to the other side of the room, led by Turgon. This portion of the hall was larger than the other part. The floor was of marble and the walls glistened with hundreds of candles. The windows had been drawn shut, for it was now dark outside. The minstrels were playing their flutes and reeds and lyres and all manner of music in the far corner. Many couples strode to the floor, and Turgon had his dance with Idril.

Soon after that, Tuor took me from my place on one of the couches and insisted on having a dance with me. We moved gracefully together, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off his. He was smiling too broadly for me to not worry. “Tuor…” I started, biting my lip as he held my hand loosely and spun me round once in step with the dance.

“Aye?” he said.

I could not help but crack a smile. “You’re up to something.”

He nodded vaguely. “Aye.”

“You must tell me!” I cried softly.

“Nay, fair one,” he said, in a soft voice. I could see his grey eyes were drawn to Idril in a tender glance as she sat on a couch with her legs drawn up under her. Her laughing eyes didn’t see him. “I can only say that it is a begetting day gift,” he said. “One that should have been given long ago.” This last bit he spoke in a whisper, barely audible. There was something so sweet and tender in the way he gazed at Idril. His mouth curled up in a slight smile as he looked straight into my eyes. The dance ended. “It’s time.”

He went to sit beside Idril once more, and she discreetly planted a kiss on his cheek. He whispered something to her, took her hand, and they slipped out of the room. I stood off to the side, a slow smile coming onto my face. I knew. And, indeed, it was not ten minutes before Idril came rushing back into the room. Her eyes were wide and the very stars seemed to shine within them. She didn’t say a word, only grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the room. The hall was quiet and dark, only a faint sound of the laughter and music from within the next room. Her chest heaved as she breathed in and out, and her face simply shone. She couldn’t stop smiling.

“Oh Rána!” she cried, throwing her arms about me. “You must think me the silliest girl ever! I have yet to tell you! I must tell you, right away.”

“I’m listening, my lady,” I said softly, laughing.

A far off look came into her eyes as she took my hands. “This summer- Rána,” she breathed. She met my eyes, tears filling hers. “I shall marry Tuor this summer!”

I knew what to expect, but the reality hit hard anyway. My eyes filled with glad tears and I hugged her tightly. “Oh Idril! I knew he would, Idril. I knew….”

She sniffled, laughing through her tears. “I’m quite a baby!” she cried, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and chuckling. “I should not be crying so, I, it’s only because I’m ever, ever so happy!” I embraced her once more, just then catching sight of Tuor, off in the shadows behind her. I smiled at him, and he nodded once to me. I then kissed IdrilÂ’s cheek gently, then turned her round and sent her into the strong arms of her future husband, and into his loving kiss.

Chapter Six- New Life

Idril’s deep, heart wrenching scream filled the small room. Tears coursed down my cheeks as I watched her, and her grip on my hand became almost unbearable. Tithen’s face was calm and determined. “Come, my lady, once more!” she said gently. Idril’s face was red and sweat soaked, the veins in her neck standing out. She closed her eyes, pushing as hard as she could, letting out another deep, low cry. “Yes….yes!” Tithen cried, and Idril collapsed onto her pillow, her eyelids shutting fast.

Another cry was heard in the little white room.

“Tuor!” I cried out, kneeling beside Idril. I was relieved to feel her gently squeeze my hand. She was alive. She would be alright.

Tuor nearly skidded into the room, his brow furrowed and his mouth slightly agape. “Celebrindal!” he cried out, kneeling on the other side of the bed. “Oh,” he said, tears slipping from his eyes. He buried his face in her neck, taking her hands. “Idril……”

Her head moved to look at him and she gave a weary smile, exhaling deeply. “Hervenn nín,” she breathed. She seemed smaller than ever. Tuor lifted his face, his eyes lighting up. He seemed overjoyed. He instantly cupped her face, pressing a long, loving kiss on her mouth. She responded more than I would have thought possible, seeing as how she had so little strength left. “Do you hear it, meleth nín?” she whispered, smiling through her tears. There was a loud wailing from the next room. “Tithen!” she called out, though her voice cracked as she tried to use it loudly.

“Hush, hush, my lady!” Tithen cried, coming softly into the room. She carried a small, crying bundle in her arms. I moved aside as she laid it in the arms of Idril, a brand new mother. The baby instantly hushed as it snuggled into it’s mother. Idril and Tuor both gazed at their new baby, completely in awe, and tears flowed down Idril’s cheeks.

Tithen was crying too, though softly. She sniffled. “It’s a boy, my lady,” she said.

Idril closed her eyes, gasping ever so softly as her child began his first nursing. Tuor looked down at them with a smile. “My son,” she whispered, stroking his thin, dark hair.

She sighed. “He is like to his father,” she breathed, almost to herself. “So his name shall be called Eärendil.”

Tithen smiled, wiping a tear from her eye. “A fitting name, lady Idril.”

“A fitting name indeed!” said Tuor, bending down to kiss his wife once more.

During the scene I watched, tears running down my face silently, a smile on my lips. I was four-hundred and one years old, and I had just experienced the giving of birth for the first time. I sat in awe and amazement as I watched Idril with her little family. The boy, Eärendil, was simply beautiful. He was a healthy child, with dark hair like his father, but fair and ruddy skin and lovely features. Tithen had been a midwife before, and exclaimed to me that never before had she seen a child so beautiful.

Idril laughed, softly, for the babe was asleep. “Of course he is, Tithen!” she cried. She looked down lovingly at the baby. “He is my son, my son…” she murmured, almost as though she spoke to her child. “The son of Elves and Men.”

I nodded in wonder. Yes, Eärendil was a Half-Elven child indeed. What a strong, beautiful boy he would grow to be. I stayed in the birthing room with Idril and Tithen for a few days, until Idril was well enough to get out of bed. Turgon was so proud of his new grandson, and the whole city was bustling with the joyful news. And Tuor was a wonderful father. He was so attentive to Idril, and loved beyond worlds being with his son. Eärendil was a wonderful child indeed. He had the beauty and blue eyes of his mother, and the coloring and strength of his father. He was a tiny baby, but grew to be very strong.

One day I sat with Idril beside the window in her room. Eärendil was nursing. “Rána…” she murmured to me, as we saw a grey cloud drift along in the sky.

“Yes, my lady?” I answered.

Her eyes were dark and clouded. “Something is going to happen, Rána,” she said softly. “I can feel it.”

“Whatever do you mean, Idril?” I asked.

She eyed me. “Do not think I am not aware of why Tuor came to Gondolin,” she whispered. “I am. I am not so prideful as Ada as to ignore the warning of the Gods. However….” She clutched the baby tighter in her arms. “I feel it now more than ever that something terrible is close by.” I knew that Idril had the gift of foresight, so I did not question her. I trusted her, and believed in my heart that she was right. Right away, in the days after that, in secret, measures were being taken by the Princess. Turgon did not know. Even Tuor did not know. A saving path was being cleared, for Idril was positive its use would come soon. When something did happen, we would be ready.

But nothing happened. Nothing stirred in the grand White City that was my home. All was still and peaceful. And it continued to be perfectly peaceful until the boy Eärendil was five years old.

Chapter Seven- Reunion

I sat on the edge of the fountain, trailing my fingers in the clear, shallow water. I looked around all of a sudden, raising one eyebrow. “Hên!” I called out, cupping my hands around my mouth. “Where have you gotten off to…?” I muttered, giving a sharp whistle. I heard laughter from up in the tree nearby. I looked up at the boy with laughing bright blue eyes. “Eärendil, come down here this minute,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. He shook his head, his long black hair bouncing up and down. “I’ll tell your Ada, you know that!” I called. “Don’t make me come up and get you….”

Suddenly we heard a murmuring from nearer to the gate. Sharp gasps and shouting were heard, and that drew my attention greatly. Something was happening near the gate of the city. Voronwë came bounding into view, his eyes wide and full of worry. “Híril Rána!” he said. “Please, you must get the King. Hurry!” he cried.

Eärendil hopped down from the tree, running over to us. He cocked his head at Voronwë. “WhatÂ’s happening!?” he asked, jerking the older Elf’s hand.

Voronwë shook his head in shock and wonder. “I’m not sure little one. But you might want to get your father.” At that, Eärendil grabbed my hand and we raced all the way up to the King’s Tower. Turgon bounded down the steps, with Tuor, and began to race to the gate. Idril came and held the boy back. He badly wanted to go.

“No no, meleth nín,” she said gently. “Let Ada see what the matter is. We must stay here until they return.”

Eärendil’s eyes looked like a stormy sea of disappointment. “Yes Nana,” he said. He drooped his head, holding his arms up to be held.

She laughed softly, letting out a grunt as she picked him up. “My my, boy, what have we been feeding you?” she cried. “You’re so big and heavy!” The little child giggled, winding his spindly arms and legs around Idril. Idril smiled hopefully at me. “I’m sure they won’t be long…”

“Aye,” I said, nodding. I didn’t know what was the matter, and I wondered greatly. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, as though I was excited and terrified all at the same time. I led Idril and the boy back into Idril’s room where we could keep Eärendil amused until the men returned.

It was not long before Tuor burst in the door. Idril hushed him, for their son was laid out asleep on the bed. His hands were dirty, and his eyes were unbelievably wide. “Idril, you will never believe this!” he cried.

Idril stood. “What, what is it?”

Tuor shook his head in amazement. “We have more visitors in Gondolin,” he said softly, his eyes locked with mine. “Four of them.”

Idril gasped. “Four? People, Tuor? What do you mean?”

Tuor shook his head. “There are two women, a young boy, and a man. A family, I suppose. They’ve been through more than I can guess….the man is wounded.”

Idril’s mouth gaped open. “But how in Eä did they find the gate, Tuor?”

“I don’t know Idril, I really don’t know,” he said slowly.

“Are they Elves?” I asked him, coming to stand beside Idril. My head was reeling and spinning with excitement.

Tuor nodded. “Aye, they are. They’ve come from the south, they say.”

I bit my lip. “May…may I see them, Tuor?”

Tuor smiled at my curiosity. “Ah, very well. Turgon won’t mind. Though, mind you, you’ll not be able to see the Ellon yet. Tithen’s attending to him.”

I nodded quickly and hurriedly followed him down the hall until we reached one of the extra bedrooms. Tuor creaked open the door, and we peered inside. Turgon was standing in front of a bed. There were three people sitting on the bed. There were the two women, and beside the younger looking woman was a teen-aged elf. His eyes were dark, sharp, and scared. He had long black tresses that fell to his shoulders, and was skinny, pale, and dirty. He had a look about him that I was sure I had seen before.

And when I looked to the women, I knew why. The younger women was holding the boy’s hand, and she looked scared. Her pretty face was gaunt and pale, and her long blond hair was matted and dirty. It was my own sister. And beside her sat my mother. I cried out in shock as I recognized them. Their faces were so dear and familiar to me, so familiar. Andúnë’s big blue eyes widened as I cried aloud, but then she must have recognized me. She stood instantly, gasping, and dropping the hand of the boy.

“Elanna!?” she said, her voice small and hopeful.

“Oh Andúnë!” I cried, running to her and putting my arms around her. She began to weep. Her body was much, much thinner than it had been, and she was dirty all over. She began to sob into my shoulder, hugging me tightly and saying my name over and over again. Tears flooded my vision as well. My sister.

I put her aside and looked to my Naneth. Silent tears ran down her pale cheeks, and she held up her hands to her mouth, shaking her head. “It cannot be!” she wept.

I ran to her and embraced her, holding her shaking frame close to me. I could not stop the tears from falling either. “It is, Nana, it is, it is…” That was all I could say. Andúnë came to us again, and I put my arms around them both, hugging them and laughing and trying to stop crying. Turgon and Tuor must have been standing at the door, amazed, but I didn’t even think of them. When I tore myself from the arms of my family, I looked on at the bewildered boy sitting on the bed. His eyes were wide.

Andúnë smiled weakly. “Of course.” She held out her hand to the teen-aged elf. “Come here, Lith,” she said. The boy came to stand beside my sister, huddling close against her.

I gasped softly, memories rushing by me. He had Andúnë’s face. I bent over a little to have eye contact with him. “Lith is your name?” I asked, my voice shaky. He nodded slowly. “How old are you, Lith?”

“Thirteen,” he said softly. His voice was not that of a child, but not that of a man.

I smile a little, placing my hand gently on his shoulder. “Well, my boy, I believe that I am your aunt,” I said, shivering as I said it. This had to be the child that Andúnë was pregnant with before I left Nargothrond. Who else could it possibly be? I shuddered inside. He looked like…… I shot a sharp glance to my sister. “Andúnë,” I said solemnly, my voice barely above a whisper. “It is not his father you have brought with you…..?”

Andúnë’s eyes widened. “Of course not!” she responded instantly. “It is our guide.”

Turgon stepped forward. He eyed me as though he did not trust me fully any longer. “I shall explain everything to you, sire, I swear it,” I breathed to him.

He nodded. “But, madams, about this guide of yours…”

Andúnë looked Turgon in the eyes. “He claimed to know my sister,” she started. “He said that he knew where she was going.” My stomach turned over inside of me, and my heart did not beat for a moment. Who…..? I felt like I was falling down a steep pit into ice cold water. I grasped my sister’s arm hard. She looked at me from the corner of her eye, cocking her head.

Tuor came forward to me, taking my arms and looking hard into my eyes. My legs began to feel weak. “Rána,” he said gently. “Are you all right? Do you know who they are talking about?”

I closed my eyes, but inside I was bursting. Was it…possible? Could it be? I should not have allowed my hopes to soar so high on an assumption. “Nana,” I said, keeping my eyes closed. “What….wh….where did you meet this man?”

Nana’s voice was shaky. “Near Doriath,” she said.

I covered my mouth with my hands, gasping, and about collapsed into Tuor. He quickly picked me up to keep me from falling. “Ai Eru!” I cried, tears running down my face. My face was ashen pale, I could feel the blood draining from it. Tuor looked at me worriedly. “Oh Tuor….Oh Eru….” I moaned, clenching my hands into fists. “Let me down,” I said. Tuor gently set me down. I looked to Turgon. “Where is this Elf being held?” I asked. I was surprised that my voice sounded so stern.

“You cannot see him, Rána…” he said.

I almost started for the King, but Tuor grabbed me. “Rána!” he cried. “Please!” My eyes filled with hot tears. “Please, listen to me, Rána. He is injured. Apparently there were some orcs along the way.” I felt the heat draining out of me once more. My skin became cold. I felt faint. “He will be better in a few days time, but right now no one can see him.” I looked at Tuor with haunted eyes. Just then I saw that Idril had been standing in the doorway. She had heard all about this wounded Elf knowing me. She cocked her head to the side, confused at my reactions.

I looked down to my silver wedding band and rubbed its underside with my thumb. Tears began pouring down my cheeks. She gasped.

Chapter Eight- Sea-Green Eyes

It had been two days since the arrival of my sister, mother, and nephew. I was distracted and anxious every hour of every day. All I could think of was that somewhere very close by was someone that I had loved and counted lost for more than a decade. Nana and Andúnë I was with constantly nowadays. I now took up again my old room in the King’s Tower, so that I could be near my family. My sister and mother were wearied and waned from their trying journey. They slept much, ate much, and talked little. Andúnë seemed less beautiful than she had been before, and Nana had lost all her motherly confidence. I did not press them about details of their journey, for I knew how devastated they must be. I, however, needed to know why they had left our home in the first place.

Nana had tearfully informed me that Nargothrond had fallen. I was wide eyed and speechless, unable to think. Fallen? It had been overrun and destroyed. The Enemy’s grip was tightening around the throat of Beleriand. I did not ask her further details about the trip. Only occasionally did I ask Andúnë about the wounded man in the healing room. Apparently, he had made a connection with the girl they knew as Ithil Elanna, and helped them through the dangerous passages that led to the city. But whenever I though of it…..I could barely stand. All emotions and feeling broke inside me, rushing through my mind. My heart broke. Were my expectations too high? Would he even live? I dared not to speak his name, or ask his name, or even think his name. I wouldn’t allow myself to. Through all these long years I had not yet once taken off the plain silver ring. It was the only part of my old life. I treasured it more than life itself.

I was alone one night, in my room, knowing that perhaps the very next day I would see the fourth member of the long journey. He was apparently getting better and better every day. I had taken out and put on my white dress- the one I had first brought with me from Nargothrond. It fell around my feet and fitted to the curves of my body. I fingered the exposed chest above the neckline, tracing my ribs with my finger, breathing heavily. My mind wandered back to my wedding night….the happiest night of my life. That night I had held the one my heart loved more than life. That night I had kissed his lips. That night I had become one with him. He had made me his wife that night. And not a night had gone by since then when I did not think or dream of him.

I could feel the cold wood on my bare feet. The window of my room was open, the cool air blowing in and ruffling the curtains. The hair on the back of my neck and arms stood on end. I knew I was not alone in the room. I closed my eyes, my chest heaving, afraid to turn around. I could feel a presence in the room. It was a feeling I had not had in a very, very long count of years. I turned around to the direction of the door, and my eyes instantly met the eyes that I thought never to see again. The color was a deep, rich sea-green. They belonged to a tall, weary looking, yet handsome, he-Elf with long, dark hair. He wore no shirt, and was thin. His left palm was wound in a bandage, and there was a long red, jagged scar across his chest. I breathed deeply through my mouth, sucking in the air rapidly. I couldn’t tear my gaze from those eyes. Those eyes. They held a spell over me.

“Ithil Elanna,” the man said, simply. The tones of his voice I knew so well, they sent shivers up my spine. He spoke my name almost as a question.

“My birth name,” I answered in a low voice. I noticed that he had closed the door, the full moon being the only light to the room. It reflected on him, and my heart broke to look at him.

My heart then stopped for an instant as he began to walk closer to me. My breathing quickened, and my eyes fell to the floor. Soon enough he was inches from me, yet not touching me. I could feel the tenseness and heat from his body. I looked up and met his eyes again. They were filled with tenderness, and something mysterious that made my heart race inside my chest. He lifted his right hand to finger a tendril of my loose silver hair, then pushed it behind my ear. He exhaled softly, in what sounded almost like a sigh.

“But, you shall always be Brethel to me…” he whispered. Looking up into his face, I felt his fingers run down my arm. As he reached the bottom, he clasped my hand, weaving his fingers in between mine. His eyes widened as he felt and saw my wedding band. He looked back up at me, and his sea colored eyes began to grow moist.

A solitary tear ran down my face as I smiled at him, clasping his hand tighter. “Ihaden!” I cried in a whisper. Just saying his name made my heart flutter within me. He took my face with his hands and pressed his mouth against mine. I sharply inhaled, placing my hands against his chest and closing my eyes. I wouldn’t let go. I couldn’t. He moved his arms to go round my waist and I wound my arms about his neck. I kept my eyes closed, knowing the feel of his lips, and loving it when they were locked with mine….as they were now. My head spun inside me and it felt like I was flying. I took Ihaden’s hands in mine, and I gasped and broke away from him when I felt a tattered string on his left ring finger, barely exposed by the bandages. Tears coursed down my cheeks as I laid my head against his shoulder. “Ihaden, my Ihaden,” I whispered brokenly. “Hervenn nín….meleth nín.”

Ihaden kissed my hands, kissed the curve of my neck, kissed my lips, again and again. I was nearly exploding inside. He held my mouth with his, lifting me off the ground and holding me in his arms as though I were a little girl. I cupped my hands on his face, kissing him with all the love and desperation and sorrow that had been a part of my life since I left him. He laid me on my bed, running his hands through my hair, then gently down my neck and chest to my waist. He tenderly kissed me, laying beside me, holding me close to him. It was a rush of emotions I had not been able to express since I left him. It was a sensation I had not experienced since our wedding night.

Ihaden murmured to me in the Grey-tongue. I could not focus on what he said. I loved him. I loved him more than ever. I told him so. I felt as though this moment would never, could never end. I didn’t want it to. I wished I could stay like this, with my husband, forever. That I could be locked in this moment of joy and passion for the rest of eternity.

Chapter Nine- Revelations

My eyes fluttered open. The open window showcased a dusky grey sky. It was not yet dawn. I sighed softly, pulling the thin white sheet closer around me, and turning over to face Ihaden. To my surprise, he was awake and smiling gently at me. I smiled shyly, moving close to him and nestling into his arms. He put his arms around me and kissed my hair. I trailed my fingers softly along his bare chest, closing my eyes and taking in the warmth and pleasure of being securely wrapped in his arms. Hardly a handful of words had been spoken since I had seen him last night. Since I had been reunited with my husband. Neither of us spoke now…I was still taking in the wonder of it all. I could feel his heart beating against me. How lucky was I? I had a loving, amazing husband, a sweet mother, a beautiful caring sister, a handsome young nephew, and Idril, Tuor, and Eärendil, who were practically my family.

I sat up slowly, closing my eyes as I felt the warmth of the sun peek in through the window. Another day in the White City had begun. Ihaden sat up as well, and rubbed the back of his neck. I looked beside me, smiling so much that I blushed IÂ’m sure. He laughed softly at me, bending forward to plant a kiss on my mouth. As he sat back, I crawled backwards on the bed until I sat behind him. I put my arms around him, then began combing my fingers through his long black hair. I kissed his shoulder lightly.

“Aur vaer, meleth nín,” I said in a cheerful yet soft voice. “Losto mae?”

He turned back to me to give a lopsided smile. “I see you now speak the Grey-tongue,” he replied.

A flush came to my face, along with a shy smile. “Aye, that I do, Lord Ihaden. It is common enough here. I was a willing student.” I began to braid his long locks to keep them out of his way. Just then an odd question popped into my head, and I furrowed my brows slightly. “Did you tell my family that I had married you?” I asked in what came out as a whisper. My voice sounded hoarse and concerned. I was concerned. There could certainly be an uprising in the King’s Tower if no one knew Ihaden was my husband.

His sea colored eyes sparkled. “No, I did not.”

The pit of my stomach sank. I should have guessed. Though, I didnÂ’t know why exactly I was worryingÂ…I could easily explain everything. ButÂ…oh! Of course! Idril already knew that he was my husband. Idril knew. Perhaps she had told my family, or her family. I was getting restless, so I quickly finished IhadenÂ’s hair and got out of bed to put on my dressing gown.

I ran out into the hallway. There wasn’t a soul about. I carefully, quietly walked to the room my mother had been occupying. As I creaked open the door, I was amazed to find Idril and Nana speaking softly in the tongue of the Noldor, while Andúnë sat on a window-seat, Lith sprawled across her lap asleep. Her eyes were closed, but I could not see whether or not she was awake. Nana was in bed propped up on her pillows, and Idril sat beside her. The speaking died out as they saw me. Idril’s eyes shone brightly as she looked at me. Nana’s eyes were filled with tears. She beckoned me to her. I walked cautiously over and pulled up another chair on her other side.

Nana took my hand and squeezed it, a tear coming out the corner of her eye. “Iell nín…ai…iell dithen nín…”

“No, Nana,” I murmured to her, brushing a tendril of dark hair away from her face. “I’m not your little girl anymore.”

Nana nodded sadly, lightly fingering my ring. “Yes, I know. I know that now.” She looked at me with a sheen in her eyes. “Oh, how your father would have loved to see you now…”

“Ada is with his fathers, Naneth,” I whispered, looking downcast. Idril suddenly then looked into my eyes sharply, as though prodding my mind to remember something. My eyes widened. Of course! I did not even think that I had no idea who my fathers were. I had wondered for so long- never daring to hope I could ever learn the truth. I took Nana’s pale hand in mine, gently, and looked deep into her eyes. “Andúnë and Ada both had hair like to the Vanya, mother,” I said softly. “Why have you never trusted me with the knowledge of my kin?”

Nana sighed deeply. “You never knew of which House we belonged to…” she said, almost as if to herself. She closed her eyes, as though struggling inside. “Yes, we are of Vanya descent. In Andúnë it is plain to see that.” She met my eyes again, an open look to them. My insides were quivering. I was finally going to find out where I came from…though Nana looked none too happy about it. Her story began.

“Ithil, I was born of the House of Fingolfin, a long while ago in Valinor. Your father was of the House of Finarfin. We were aroused by Lord Fëanor’s speech on behalf of the Darkening of Valinor, and were angered by the death of our kinsman Finwë. We had only been married a short time when we both went on the long march away from the Blessed Land of Aman.”

Her eyes were downcast as she spokeÂ…as though she recalled the splendor and beauty of the wondrous land where she had once dwelt. She gulped hard, closing her eyes.

“Both your father and myself took part in the slaying of the Teleri, though I swear to you now we did not know what it was we did. After the doom of Mandos fell upon us, much of your father’s House turned back to Valinor with Lord Finarfin. Your father…he wanted to return as well.”

“Why didn’t you, Nana?” I asked, my curiosity peaked.

She bit her lip to keep her voice steady. “Because I was unwilling to leave my Company. Your father was also dear friends with much of Fingolfin’s House, and so we decided to stay on in the end.” A tear ran down her face, and she shook her head. “You cannot imagine, my daughter, how we felt, standing on those icy shores…watching our hopes and future rise to the sky in black clouds of smoke and flames.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, holding her hand tight. My heart was broken for her. “Thank you Nana, please, you don’t have to say any more.”

Idril smiled sadly at Nana, then brightened when she looked at me. “Rána! Emilin knew my mother before she perished in Helcaraxë,” she said softly, looking sad but relieved at the same time.

Nana smiled at me. “Yes, I knew Elenwë well. She was a dear girl.”

Suddenly a voice came from the doorway. “Did you know Galadriel?”

I turned around and smiled broadly as I saw Ihaden leaning against the door frame. He had already dressed himself. My mother smiled. “Yes, my son, for she was close kin to Ithil’s father.”

I stood up presently and walked to the door, taking Ihaden’s hands in mine and kissing him softly. I led him over to share a seat with me. Nana’s face was beaming at the two of us. “And where do you come from, my son?” she asked.

“I am half of the Sindar, and half of the House of Fëanor,” he replied, wrapping his arm about my waist. “Of Doriath.”

Nana nodded. “So you have gone and married my daughter, have you?” she asked, a glad tear in her eye.

Ihaden laughed. “Hardly, madam. For we have been wed for over ten years!”

Nana and Idril laughed. It sounded nice to hear Nana laugh again. She sighed softly, holding her hands in her lap. “I suppose you know Galadriel, then, Ihaden.”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, a little. She knew my mother.”

“She was a dear girl, her mother as well.” Nana stared off into the vacant air, a look of memory about her. “Yes, Eärwen was a lovely woman. The most beautiful of the Sea-Elves I had ever seen. Galadriel has her eyes, though otherwise she is the image of her father.” Nana blinked, smiling childishly at us. “Oh, my word, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have rambled on so. It’s time to get up anyway.”

Idril smiled. “Eärendil will be awake soon. He never sleeps past the sun.”

Andúnë’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled wearily. “The young ones never do.” She stroked the black hair of sleeping Lith. Idril smiled sweetly over at Andúnë. I supposed the young mothers had become quite friends. They both probably has useful teaching for the other, although Idril had not been a mother so long as my sister.

Chapter Ten- Family

Gradually my family was adjusting to life in Gondolin, and Gondolin was adjusting to them as well. At first, the young boys Lith and Eärendil were rather jealous of each other. Eärendil wanted more of my attention (I was like a nanny to him) and Lith was still trying to get to know me. He was a painfully quiet, shy, boy. But I supposed that came about by being raised without a father, and spending Eru knows how many years wandering around Beleriand looking for answers and a home. At any rate, I liked him a great deal. And that made Eärendil sour. However, after a while, the boys became friends, tolerant of one other, although they knew how to go at each other. Lith teased Eärendil because he was little, and because he was only Half-Elven- though Eärendil hardly understood what that really meant. If he was angry at Lith, Eärendil would oftentimes speak on and on to Lith in the High-Tongue, (he had been taught that at a young age, for it was the native tongue of Idril and Turgon), which made Lith furious for he was raised speaking Sindarin- the language which most of the Nargothrond Elves had adapted by the time I left. However, within a few months, the boys did become fast friends and rarely picked a fight intentionally.

Slowly Nana and Andúnë adjusted to the life of the Hidden City as well. They seemed very happy there. My sister especially was, for it was a marvelous place to raise a child. Much was changed about them, however. Nana was mostly her old self, though not as quiet and personal as she used to be. She talked, laughed, and cried more openly now, and really became a great friend to me.

The change in Andúnë simply broke my heart to bits. Before…she had been a sweet, carefree, child, laughing at every chance, flirting with the Ellyn, enjoying and soaking up life. But she was a mother now. She was always tired, pale, listless, almost. It took quite a while for the bright sun of Gondolin to put bright color back into her faded cheek. And it took her even longer to get her trust of people back. She would shudder at every man who even said hello to her; it seemed that Maeglin had ruined her life, as well as making her afraid to love again.

One day Idril, Andúnë and myself were in my little house, sewing, and looking out the window at the two boys laugh and play in the streets with other children. While Idril was out of the room for a moment, I looked over at Andúnë. Her face was thin and pale, her golden hair tied up in a low, loose bun. She was solemnly bent over her work. The air was very still.

“Do you miss him, Andúnë? Do you still love Maeglin?”

She gasped, blinking hard, and accidentally poked the point of the needle into her finger. The deep, rose red blood trailed out of the pinprick, startlingly bright against her fair, pale skin. She looked at me with wide haunted eyes. “I don’t miss him,” she said, her voice very thin. She paused. “I…don’t think I still love him.” The silence hung thick. “No,” she said firmly. “I don’t love him. There’s…something about him. There always was. I was fanciful to do what I did, but he stole my heart.” And then ripped it to shreds. Her brows furrowed and her face darkened a little. “I truly don’t think that he ever stopped wanting the other woman that he told me about. I don’t think he really loved me. And then, when he was captured by those orcs…why would they take him if he was just another man?”

I took her hand in sympathy. I really did love my sister, and hated for the wool to be so pulled over her eyes.

Just then Idril walked in the room with three clay cups of water. Her eyebrows flew up at the sight of Andúnë’s white cloth with a red blood-stain on it. “Are you alright, my dear?” she asked softly, sitting down again, looking over my sister’s finger.

Andúnë smiled thinly. “I’m fine.” She looked over to me again, sadly, with a determined line on her lips. “I’m glad Maeglin is out of my life,” she said, in the softest whisper.

Idril jerked her head over to us, her eyes wide. “What did you say?” she asked sharply. She sounded almost frightened.

I frowned. “What?” I asked.

Her eyes were big and scared. Her hands trembled. “I-I-I’m sorry Rána…I j-just thought I heard your sister say s-something about…someone named…Maeglin?”

I nodded slowly, looking to Andúnë for consent to speak of him. She nodded sadly to me. “Maeglin was the name of Lith’s father, my lady.”

“Oh!” Idril said, her hand flying to her heart. “He is my cousin!” she cried, the color draining from her face.

Andúnë’s and my eyes widened, our jaws dropping. Suddenly my mind whirred and buzzed, locking all the pieces of the puzzle together…

“A very long time passed before she came home again. When she finally did come, she brought with her a son!Â…The boy was beautiful, and favored more his mother’s Noldorin kin than that of his Sindarin father’s. But….”

“He said he had loved another woman, but she detested him, so he left her…”

My heart skipped a beat and I clutched Andúnë’s shoulder tightly. “Maeglin loved you, Idril. Did he not? He wanted to marry you I’ll wager.”

“Of course such things are not allowed!” Idril said in response. Her voice was shaking.

“Oh…” Andúnë moaned. “He told me of you! He said that you did not return his love…Oh!”

“How is it that you have never mentioned Lómion before?” Idril asked.

I shook my head. “It is a painful subject, my friend. Maeglin brought utter ruin upon my family, we have no love for him or for his name.” Idril’s eyes were filled with tears. I now knew the other end of her unfinished story. We looked out the window. Lith was actually smiling, running around with a laughing Eärendil hanging on his back.

“He does look like him…” Idril murmured, tears in her voice. “Yes…yes, indeed. I never saw it before…” She looked straight into my eyes. “That boy outside is the great-nephew of my father, and second cousin to me.”

I blinked. Yes, it was so. What a strange, frightful twist of events! Andúnë’s eyes darkened with fear. “Please, please, my lady. Let the child not be told! I beg of you!” she pleaded. “And even your father the King might not have to know…”

“Hush, hush, my dear,” Idril replied, taking my sister’s hand. “You and your child are family to us, I would not do such a thing if it was against your will. He shall not know.”

Andúnë gave a look of relief, as though a great care and drained from her slowly. “Thank you, my lady.”

Chapter Eleven- The Returning

Nearly six months had passed since the restoration of my family to me. Lith was growing fast into a good, cheerful boy, though he was still more somber than other children his age. But, after all, he was only a child. I enjoyed being with him a lot. Once, I went out to walk. I enjoyed walking the cobblestone streets of the city, just watching the lives of other around me. Lith all of a sudden came up to me, a small smile on his face, and his eyes shining underneath his shaggy black hair.

“Good morning, Lith,” I said.

“Good morning Aunt Rána,” he replied. Most people called me Rána, excepting Ihaden, Nana, and Andúnë, so he did too.

“It’s a fine day, is it not?” I asked. He nodded vacantly. It didn’t take much effort for him to look up at me. He was now nearly as tall as me, and growing fast for a boy his age. My eyes twinkled at him. “What do you want to talk about?” I asked him.

He looked up with an expression of shock, which quickly turned to admiration. “I knew you would find out,” he said. “I’ve found the girl I want to marry.”

I stopped walking abruptly, jerking my head around to look at him. “What!?” I stammered. “But…you’re just a boy!”

His face darkened. “I’m young…but it’s not like I’m a baby!”

He had only turned thirteen shortly before I met him. “You won’t be of age for more than thirty-five years!” I cried. “You are a child.” He half pouted as we continued walking. I smiled suddenly, however, intrigued nonetheless. “What’s her name?”

He grinned. “Nienna,” he said. “And she’s beautiful.”

I blinked. Nienna. It was very rare for Elves to name their children after anyone elseÂ…especially a Vala. I wonderedÂ…perhaps this was the beginning of a family to which I could pass down NiennaÂ’s gift. It was a thoughtÂ… Perhaps the name was a sign. Perhaps she really would marry Lith someday.

Just then I saw soldiers of the King walking hurriedly up in the direction of the KingÂ’s Tower. It looked at though they were crowded around someone. I was puzzled, and Lith was curious.

“Who’s that in there, Rána, can you see?”

I shook my head. “No. But we’ll find out.”

We made our way to the Tower. Lith would have run all the way, but I wouldn’t hear of it. Obviously whoever it was, was being brought to the King. In about fifteen minutes we reached the Tower. We walked up the shadowy steps, Lith clinging to my hand. He was rambling on about the soldiers leading a mysterious man to the King, who was known for murder and crime and trying to ambush the city. I laughed at him, shaking my head, trying to convince him that it was nothing of the sort. However, I couldn’t fathom what in Eä it could be…

When we reached the landing, there were two Elf men standing near the second stairs which led to the KingÂ’s chamber. Apparently the rest of the Tower was empty or otherwise occupied, for there was no sign of servants, the soldiers, or any of my family or the KingÂ’s family. Turgon was one of the Elves. His expression was confused, worried, and also a little relieved. The other was a creature I had thought, nay hoped, never, ever to see again. It was Maeglin.

He looked at me with sharp, dark eyes, widening at the sight of me. He paid little or no attention to the boy holding my hand, who now was rather frightened. My insides were churning, and angry heat was rising. I was only comforted by the fact that Turgon had no idea who Lith’s father was. Only myself, Idril, Nana, and Andúnë knew it was Maeglin. The man himself didn’t know. I doubted that he knew he even had a son.

He froze as he looked me over enough to recognize me. He knew who I was. Then I could feel cold panic coming from his black eyes. If I was hereÂ…perhaps others from my family were as well, he no doubt thought.

“Ah, my boy, this is a dear friend of my daughter, and our family. Rána, she is called. Rána, this is my nephew, Maeglin Lómion- who was lost to us long ago and has now returned.” Turgon spoke those ironic words so innocently, I knew he had no idea of how I had known Maeglin before.

He nodded coldly at me, smiling a little. “It is nice to meet you, my lady,” he said. I could see he planned to deny all knowledge of me and mine. “And this…this is your son?” he asked.

I cocked my head ever so slightly, giving a wry smile. “Nay, my lord, he is my nephew.”

He nodded as though he didnÂ’t think about it, then froze again. His eyes were wide as they turned to look at the young boy. I gripped his hand tighter. Lith looked with fright and surely some admiration upon this tall, handsome, Dark Elf. MaeglinÂ’s eyes were filled with scorn and hate as he looked over his son. He knew.

Suddenly Andúnë rushed out of her room and onto the landing. She stopped in her tracks as she laid eyes on Maeglin. She turned positively white. Their eyes met and held to each other as Turgon went through his introduction again. She didn’t move, save for a small nod. Maeglin gave a haughty look to her, and then to the boy. He turned to Turgon. “Well, thank you uncle. I’m afraid I am quite tired and wish to retire to my rooms. Except…I should like to give a word of greeting to my fair cousin. Where is Idril Silverfoot?”

Andúnë looked as though she was going to faint as Maeglin brushed her aside without a word. I knew that she had claimed not to love him, but a few strings still tied her heart to his. She did care for him still.

Turgon looked a little uneasy. “She is in the city with Tuor. They’re married now, you know. They have a charming child all of five years.”

Maeglin’s eyes darkened and so did his face. His mouth coiled into a sneer for an instant. I could see that he knew Tuor already, and must be insanely jealous of him. I feared for Eärendil too. Who knew what someone like Maeglin would do to such a young and innocent child? But the snake-like look was short lived. He turned with a half smile to Turgon.

“Ah, so it is. I had figured they would not wait too long to wed. Well, I shall retire anyhow. Give my salutations to the couple. Until tomorrow.” He raced up the steps to where he old room must have been. Turgon nodded and bid the morning to both Andúnë and myself, then left down the stairs, Lith following after him.

“Good Eru…” I muttered, running my hand through my silver hair.

Andúnë shook her head, laying her hand on the wall to steady herself. “May Eru help me…oh… Ithil, he knows. I can see it. Did you say that Lith was my son?”

“Aye,” I whispered.

The whole city was in an uproar when the news of MaeglinÂ’s returning got out. Especially in the KingÂ’s Tower. The story that Maeglin convinced most of, was that while out exploring various mines and the like, he had been captured by the forces of Morgoth had held prisoner for many years. Eventually he had managed to escape. Idril and I were discussing it one day, not long after his return, in her rooms. She was burning with fury at the man.

“A liar and a bastard!” she cried, pounding her fist against the wall. “I now wish I had not given my word to your sister not to tell Ada of what Maeglin did to your family. He believes every word, poor man!”

I sat on the bed. “What cause has he not to believe him?” I whispered.

“Well, I don’t trust him. After he knew that I loved Tuor and not he, he became bitter and angry. He’s not changed.” She paused, breathing, and closed her eyes. “I’m so glad that Tuor is handling it so well, though. Of course, that’s because he doesn’t know either! Good Eru I could wring the man’s neck…!” she said. I didn’t blame her. I felt like wringing Maeglin’s neck too. He had caused such grief to Andúnë, to Nana…Ada’s death was his fault as well…

For a long while Andúnë was shocked and terrified nearly to the point of illness. But she managed to cope with the situation, and simply avoided Maeglin as much as she could. It was all an act we put on, pretending we did know each other. Idril pretending she had no idea of anything. None of my family went in the King’s Tower anymore, unless Maeglin was away. At first Lith was utterly amazed the returning of Maeglin. He found it terribly fascinating, and actually tried to be around Maeglin a lot. But Maeglin got the point across very swiftly that he wanted nothing to do with the boy. They developed a strong dislike for each other after that.

The ripples in the normally still life of Gondolin were smoothing out slowly and surely, yet tension still remained in the air. Turgon sensed that his nephew was changed, and Tuor kept his family away from him at all costs. It infuriated Maeglin, who clearly still wanted Idril for his own wife. Things were still and quiet on the surfaceÂ…but deep in the shadows where no one was looking, great changes were happening that so few knew about. What we all feared was just around the corner.

Chapter Twelve- The Great Fall

In the year five-hundred and ten of the First Age of the Sun

I clenched my fists together, tears stinging my eyes. Why didnÂ’t he understand? I loved my husband more than life, but I didnÂ’t see what was such a problemÂ…

“His father ‘died in an orc raid’? That was all you could trust me with, Brethel?”

I bit my lip to keep from crying. “Ihaden, please! Please understand. It’s not that I didn’t trust you, you know I do! I tell you everything!”

“You lied to me,” he said, staring hard at the wall from his position on the other side of the room. “For so many years now…”

“It was not my secret to tell!” I cried, tears creeping their way out of my eyes. “Andúnë didn’t even want Turgon to know.”

“What does that mean if you cannot even trust me, Ithil Elanna?” he said firmly, his sea-green eyes flashing as he pointed to my wedding ring.

“I do trust you…I swear it, I’ve come close to telling you so many times…”

“Well, I had to hear it from Andúnë.”

I sat on the bed, weak. I felt like my knees couldn’t support me. I was trembling. “You would not have heard it from anyone else, hervenn nín,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “I do not betray the word of my friends.”

His eyes were dark and sad. I knew he wouldnÂ’t be angry at me foreverÂ…he was mostly hurt and surprised. In the two years of marriage that we had been living together, we had totally trusted each other in every way, and become much closer than we had been when we married. Secrets from each other had never been an issue beforeÂ…except the nagging from within myself, wanting to tell him, yet knowing I couldnÂ’t.

Suddenly seven year old Eärendil burst into the room, his face all aglow. His long dark hair had been braided behind his back, and he was barefoot, all dressed in white. His bright blue eyes sparkled. “Rána, Rána! Hîr Ihaden! Tarnin Austa! Tolo!” the boy cried, jumping and proclaiming the great festival of the Gates of Summer. The spring season was passing away, and now was the great celebration ushering in the summer. The young boy was elated.

Without looking at me Ihaden quietly left the room. I could see the dim grey sky out the door. Eärendil looked at my curiously as I rose from the bed and sighed, walking to where he stood in the doorway. “Is Ihaden angry at you, Rána?”

I took his small hand as we walked out into the grey morning, closing my door behind us. “Have you ever seen your parents fight, my boy?” I asked him, as we went along the streets.

He cocked his little black head to the side, obviously thinking. “Aye.”

“What happened after they weren’t angry anymore?” I replied.

He smiled a little. “Ada kissed Nana.”

I laughed, feeling a little bit better inside already. I smiled down at the lad, my eyes twinkling as he dragged me down the streets to where the rest of the city waited on the wall. “When will the sun rise, little one? When will the Gates of Summer begin?”

“Ai!” he shrieked, spotting the place on the eastern wall where most of the city was grouped. “Soon! Hurry! Look, there’s Ihaden, with Ada!” Ihaden spotted us before we got there, but Idril rushed out of the crowd, all smiles, to weave us to the front of the massive amount of people to get the best view. We moved to the front, where Turgon and Maeglin already waited. The crowd was whispering and excited, but Maeglin seemed on edge, his arms folded as he stared up anxiously at the eastern wall of the mountains that encircled the city. The sun would rise in a few minutes. The air was thick, heavy, and with a slight fog. But excitement and whispers rippled through the crowd of Gondolians. All of a sudden, a clear voice began singing out the song of summer. The song began growing until the whole company sang out the joyous old song in the tongue of the Noldor. Much, if not most, of those who lived in Gondolin did not even know to speak the High-Tongue, but all knew the song. It was sung on every eve of summer, to usher in the glorious season. We looked with smiles to the east, awaiting the red light of the rising sun. It came. But not from the east.

The singing died out in awe and fear as a glow of red began rising from the northern side of the mountains. The north was high, and nigh impassible, so the watch was very little. Maeglin’s eyes were wide, and Eärendil shrank to his mother. Idril looked scared, and Turgon looked confused. Idril looked around, presumably for Tuor- but both our husbands were together. Smoke began to rise, and a unison cry of the people was sent up as we saw what approached.

Flaming creatures of the underworld rose from the horizon, whips and swords in their hands, broad wings seemingly of ash, shadow, dust, and flame. A great host of goblins and orcs followed, many of them on wargs, and some of the wolves running without riders.

The people were in shock, the children were crying. For once Turgon seemed frozen, and did not know what to do. There was a strange light in MaeglinÂ’s eyes.

Then it came. A huge, golden dragon passed over the hills, its scales gleaming in the light of the fiery balrogs and the torches held by the orcs. It bellowed aloud and spew a fountain of fire from its nostrils and mouth. They fast approached the city.

The riders came. The watch of the northern wall consisted of several dozen men, and now all approached on swift steeds. They shouted up to Turgon before making for the gate: “Melkor is upon us!”

Then, suddenly, like a click, everything sprang into motion. Turgon found Tuor and began giving orders. Voronwë assembled the gate men, and each of the Houses gathered their men for fighting. Eärendil was whimpering and clinging to the skirts of his mother. Idril’s face was solemn as she quietly looked around and assessed the situation. I knew what she was thinking before she even spoke. She looked at me.

“Rána, find the children, and the women,” she said gravely. “Get them to the tunnel.”

I nodded to her, my heart beating frantically, though outwardly I was calm. Eärendil cried out as Idril tried to hand him over to me, and tears began to stream from his big blue eyes. I took his hands as he wiped his nose on his sleeve. Idril was already off, presumably looking for her husband. “Eärendil,” I said very solemnly. His eyes were wide. “You must be a brave boy and come with me. Your Nana won’t be long.” He nodded and took my hand. I must have nearly been dragging him behind me, for I ran like the wind, all the way up to the King’s Tower. We raced up the stairs to Idril’s chambers.

I dropped the boy’s hand and scanned the room with my eyes, firmly shutting the door. I rushed to the back of the room to where the large bookshelf was. With some help from Eärendil, I managed to slide it out of the way. His eyes widened as we looked upon a trap door in the floor. I pulled it open with a rusty creak, and blew away the dust. There were unlit stairs winding down. I knew they went all the way down the length of the Tower. And then into the ground. But there was no time.

After we had descended the Tower once more, we caught sight of Idril. Eärendil looked to me and I nodded, and he ran off to her. I began spreading the word that all the women and children should flee to the King’s Tower, and wait direction. Many women that I knew went up, and their children, whoever I saw I told. But I did not see my husband.

As I heard the approaching of our foes, something clicked inside of me. The warrior girl that had been held in for so long was breaking loose again. I felt as I had felt when I was just a girlÂ…like when I had first laid eyes on Ihaden. I rummaged through my dusty closet. Luvier I had never allowed to become dull, out of practice, but it had been years since I used it. My beautiful white gauntlets I strapped hurriedly onto my shaking wrists, and I threw on my quiver, hanging my bow over my shoulder. I tossed some leggings on underneath my dress, and grabbed my ever ready pack that lay in the closet. Idril had warned me that a time would come when I should have need of it.

I went out into the fray. People were running, screaming, now the battle had commenced. I mostly ran about, trying to avoid the main fighting, but rushing the women and children up to the tower. Tithen would show them the way. I picked off various enemies from the sidelines, but there was utter chaos. The streets were filled with warriors. I was wide eyed and dazzled by breeds of villains I had never seen before, or only heard of in fairy-stories as a child. The drake marched slowly through the city, crumbling walls and crushing bodies and spewing fire every which way.

I ran along quite a ways, trying to see if I had rounded up everyone. It had been hours since the battle had been waged, and still I had not seen Idril or Eärendil…

I then realized that I was nearly upon Amon Gwareth. The rocky jagged cliffs were where Maeglin’s father, Eöl, had been executed long ago. I had been told the story. The fire and mass armies rumbled below, and I could barely hear myself think. But I heard myself scream when I saw Maeglin standing upon the cliff, holding Idril and Eärendil in his arms. Tuor stood not more than a few yards away. They shouted at each other, Maeglin with a sneer. Tuor looked desperate.

“Go on, step closer,” I heard Maeglin say, as Tuor seemed about to move. “I’ll toss your fair bride o’er the edge and your son too.” Eärendil’s eyes were wide and filled to the brim with fear. His little feet nearly collapsed under him. Maeglin grumbled a bit. “No, go on, take the lad. I’ve a mind to kill him now as well, alongside you if he wishes. I’ve no desire for him…just his mother.” He threw the boy at his father’s feet.

“I shall slice the life out of you if you touch her!!!” Tuor cried, his eyes flaming hot. He drew his sword with a metal clang, and Maeglin threw Idril aside. He moved to dodge out of the way of the sword, but Tuor lunged at him instead, dropping his weapon. They struggled for a bit, moving all the while closer to the cliff.

Idril screamed out as it seemed Maeglin was about to win the battle. Tuor gritted his teeth hard, cried out loudly, and threw Maeglin, screaming, off the cliffs. Idril’s hand flew to her heart, and Eärendil began to cry. Tuor picked up the boy with one arm, and took Idril’s hand with the other, holding them both close.

Idril’s face softened as she saw me. “Oh, Eru, you’re alive!” she cried. She ran to embrace me.

“Tuor, I can help fight.”

Tuor nodded. “I know you can. But we must flee. There is no chance of the city surviving this war- the enemy has gotten this far, it cannot be stopped.” There were tears in his voice as he spoke. I could barely comprehend it myself.

We scrambled along the roads until we reached sight of the Tower. We all four stood in stunned silence at what we saw. The great golden dragon was slain, laying in the wide fountain of the KingÂ’s courtyard. Elves and orcs lay strewn about the mud and blood spattered ground. Buildings were aflame, and weeping could be heard. The Tower had completely been crashed to the earth, and lay in ruins in the fountain. The water was streaming everywhere. Idril cried out. She knew that her father had been in the battle near the fountain. Clearly now none we could see were living.

Tuor took his wife in his arms as she quietly sobbed, clutching him. Eärendil was ashen faced, so I picked him up. He buried his face in my shirt. There was still hope, however. The trap door was not the only way to enter the tunnel. We crept around the ruins, still able to hear echoes of screams, and the sounds of war waging not far off. Finding the opening of the tunnel staircase, Tuor began helping his wife and son in. I winced at every cry of a dying man. Any one of them could be my husband. My eyes widened… Ihaden!

I began to race in the opposite direction, Tuor calling out my name. I threw my voice back to him. “I must find Ihaden!” I stopped before I reached the corner of the street, for what I heard.

“I’m here.” Ihaden came around the bend with about a half dozen other Elves. They were mud spattered and blood soaked, all of them, but I could tell that Ihaden was not wounded. He approached me, and I leaned into his arms. “The King has fallen,” he whispered.

“We know. Did Andúnë and Nana and Lith get into the Tower before it fell?” I asked.

“Yes. Said something about you saying there was a secret tunnel to safety,” he said. I saw his eyes were twinkling.

“Aye,” I replied. I took his hand. “We have to go…now. There’s not much time left.” I looked at his comrades. “Come, all of you, we must hurry!”

Ihaden’s eyes darkened. “Brethel…” he murmured slowly. “We are some of the few that have survived. Many of the men have fled to the tunnel…but the enemy is still strong. They cannot be allowed to pass into this place…the escape route would be discovered.” He heaved a sigh, looking solemn and grave. “We must keep them away while the rest of you go down the pass.”

I blinked, unable to comprehend what he said. “But…but…surely you…”

“I am not the only one of these men with family, my love,” he said, drawing me close to him and stroking my cheek.

Tears began to blur my vision and slip down my dirty face. “No…no, Ihaden…” I buried my face in his chest, weeping. No. No! It could not be. I would not let him go. I tried in vain to pull him away, but he would not be moved. With a jerk of his head, he sent the rest of the men back. He took my face with his hands, looking at me with his beautiful, beautiful sea-green eyes. He kissed me long, and tender, and I felt myself losing the war. I had to let him go. I had to.

“Goodbye, meleth nín,” he said. I saw that his eyes were wet, but the firm line of his mouth was unbroken.

I stood there as he ran off, unblinking, unfeeling, numb. I looked back, my eyes wet with tears, and saw Idril and Tuor climbing down into the tunnel. Eärendil was at my side, tugging at my hand. “Come on, Rána,” he said softly. I met his big blue eyes, which were filled with the concern only a child can feel. “We have to go.”

~The End~

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