Lost Tales of Gondolin by darthfingon

Identification

"What are you doing, Maeglin?"

"Preparing for the festival tomorrow."

"Preparing... how?"

Maeglin turned around to face Glorfindel with unmasked disdain.  "Everyone is celebrating the foundation of the city and how much they love it and love being part of it and being all perfect and Noldorin.  But I'm not from Gondolin, am I?  As everyone takes pains to remind me every day.  So, I am preparing my own celebration.  A celebration of Nan Elmoth."

"I see," said Glorfindel, though he didn't at all.  "So what you're doing is...?"

"I am making a miniature Nan Elmoth right here, so I can sit in it and celebrate by myself."

Glorfindel nodded.  "Oh.  Right.  And, er, that's Nan Elmoth, is it?"

"Yes."

"It looks like a peach tree with a tarp over it."

"Yes, exactly," said Maeglin.  "See, Nan Elmoth is a very shady forest.  And since Gondolin has few trees and no shade, I am making my own."

"With a tarp."

"Right.  With a tarp.  It'll look better once I get some potted plants and perhaps a carpet of dead leaves.  Now, if you don't mind, I really need to get to work."

Glorfindel took a few steps back, but did not leave.  He stood where he was and watched Maeglin work on the peach tree.  With the way the tarp was knotted, it was beginning to look rather festive.

"Are you still there?" Maeglin asked, throwing a scowl back over his shoulder.

"Sorry," said Glorfindel.  "I was only thinking."

"About?"

"Well, I was just thinking that I don't really belong in Gondolin either.  I'm no more Noldorin than you, and, like you, I was raised in a foreign place that very few others have seen.  So I was thinking of Valmar."

For once, Maeglin had the good grace to look abashed.  "Oh," he said, stumbling awkwardly over the single syllable.  "I... I guess I never thought of that.  D'you want to... I mean, maybe you could... set up a Little Valmar next to Little Nan Elmoth?  My set-up probably won't work for you, otherwise I'd offer..."

Glorfindel cocked his head to the side.  "No, a peach tree with a tarp over it is pretty accurate for Valmar.  We just need to stuff seventeen or so people under it and then get them to sing along with some drums and shrill flutes."

Maeglin paused only long enough to nod once.  "Do they drink while singing?  Because drinking is a vital part of life in Nan Elmoth."

"Oh, all the time.  You can't have a peach-tree tarp sing-along in Valmar without drinking."

"In that case, I formally invite you to join my celebration tomorrow.  I will bring the brandy."

"Wonderful!" said Glorfindel.  "I'll see if Ecthelion has any shrill flautists he can lend me.  Only I have one suggestion."

"Which is?" asked Maeglin.

"Why bother waiting for tomorrow?  You see, in Valmar we also have this very important tradition of never doing anything at the right time..."

~

Neither Glorfindel nor Maeglin was awake for the Gondolin celebration the next day.  However, having spent a night under a tarp-draped peach tree with numerous brandy bottles and a dozen of Ecthelion's worst flautists, neither was much in the mood to notice, let alone care.