Narn Gil-galad by Earonn

---

Chapter 7: The Awakening of Nargothrond

 

Curtsy: To Nemis for betareading, but mostly for the many hugs when Erik and I needed them so badly!

Dedicated? No, but a piece of song:

This is Radio Orchid

Listen and cry

To all the others

That suffer and die

This is Radio Orchid

Listen and cry

Take your lonely heart and let it fly

(Fury In The Slaughterhouse, Radio Orchid)

A/N

Finch: as already said, I appreciate your constructive criticism very much. Maeglin...well, the little rascal will play some role later, but this time he sneaked in without even so much as asking me...

Nemis: Túrin says "Ouch!"

And again: Happy Birthday, dear friend!

---

 

IV The Awakening of Nargothrond

Because of their friendship with Gwindor the children of the king also became close with Túrin, and whenever the young man was at Nargothrond he could be found in their company. And so it came to be that the heart of Finduilas turned against her will to the young Adan. The princess, however, kept silent about it, for she felt he did not return her love. Túrin esteemed her and spent much time in her company, but he saw her as a sister like he saw a brother in Gil Galad.

Thus a shadow fell on Finduilas' beauty, she became pale and quiet, sought out solitude and neither Gildor Inglorion's merry songs nor Celebrimbor's invitations to his forge nor even Gil Galad’s alternating offers for comfort or some sparring could enlighten her mood.

One winter evening, just after the sun had set behind the High Faroth, the siblings made a late walk outside along the Narog. They just listened to the murmur of the water, the crushing snow beneath their steps and the whisper of the wind over the ridges. The nature was quiet like usually in winter and the silence was soothing for Gil Galad's fëa, nonetheless it seemed to have no effect on Finduilas, who still remained deep in apparently unhappy thoughts. Therefore after they returned into the warmth of their home and sat side by side on a wooden bench in their father's library, he touched her hand in an almost apologetic way.

"You're unhappy, little sister. Tell me about it. Please."

Finduilas looked up to her brother's face. In the candlelight his eyes were dark, but she knew the exact shade of their grey. And his expression, so full of concern. Poor big brother, so often he had to worry about her, cared for her, supported her...

Finduilas decided, this one time not to burden her brother with her troubles, as she had done so thoughtlessly in the past time. He should be spared this one grief, which he could not change anyway.

So she only smiled melancholy and did not answer.

Not much later Gwindor gave away Túrin's real name, first to Finduilas and soon after also to the council of Nargothrond. The elves honoured the young Adan only the more, since the deeds of his sire Húrin Thalion were praised in all elven realms. Moreover it was commonly known that Túrin had been fostered in Doriath by King Thingol Greymantle himself (1).

But at his request no one except the king and his councillors was informed of his real name. He wished to live unknown in Nargothrond and to abandon, with his name, also his dark fate and the shadows of the past.

The passion with which Túrin fought the orcs, his courage and the sufferings he endured did not miss their effects on the elven warriors, and so more and more of them began to question their way of fighting. Outwardly they followed their king's orders, but the voices of those who felt a dislike for ambush and retreat became increasingly louder and insistent.

And when Túrin saw how many of his companions shared his wishes, one day he spoke openly in the council before the king and asked for permission to attack and - if necessary - chase the orcs even beyond the borders.

Not all of the king's advisers agreed with him, and long they took council, weighted safety against courage and their responsibility for Nargothrond against their obligation to the other inhabitants of Beleriand.

Meanwhile Orodreth remained silent as was his habit and also Gil Galad initially did not speak for or against Túrin's request. Gwindor, however, disapproved of it and expressed his fear; the terrible power of Angband which he alone of the persons present knew all too well could become aware of their home through too bold actions.

When Orodreth at last felt that all opinions and reasons had been given he stopped the discussion and turned to face Gil Galad.

"You've been silent, my son. Nonetheless I neither believe you lack experience in this matter, nor that you do not care for it. So tell me, do you intend to speak in favour or against Túrin's request?"

Gil Galad let his gaze wander over the elves around, looking everyone of them full in the face.

"I agree with him, my lord", he eventually answered. "Much too long we've relied on secrecy and even deceitfulness. But didn't our king Finrod Felagund face the enemy himself? How can we consider ourselves his House, as long as we do not prove ourselves worthy of it?"

Many of the elves looked down in embarrassment since they were still ashamed for having abandoned their beloved lord when he accompanied Beren in his quest against Morgoth.

"Yet those who remind us of the protection this secrecy brings are also right," Gil Galad continued. "We should attack the orcs and most of all protect those who seek refuge within our borders, instead of expelling them or doing even worse. But in this we should be cautious."

Orodreth understandingly nodded but said nothing. Then he dismissed the council and retired to make his decision. And finally he gave Túrin and the other border-guards permission to attack the orcs, but he forbade them to follow Morgoth's creatures more than a half day's ride beyond the borders or to gather in larger groups against them.

So the elves of Nargothrond no longer fought in secrecy. The orcs and wargs soon were driven out of the forests and from Talath Dirnen, the Guarded Plain. So from Brethil to the Falas West-Beleriand was freed of them. Nothing the foul creatures feared more than the Black Sword of Nargothrond and his deadly companions.

Thus the shadow under which the elves of Nargothrond had lived since the departure of Finrod Felagund was taken from them. And this one thing they never forgot, regardless of all the woe they suffered later: that it had been Túrin son of Húrin who led them from darkness back into light (2).

Months passed and Túrin obtained honour and respect, but he increasingly worried for his family. Also his hate of Morgoth increased and he always wished to inflict more harm on the Great Enemy. So his actions became ever more audacious and even if his fight for Nargothrond had begun as a wish to defend his new home, it now turned into an expression of hate.

In the end he argued Orodreth into building a stony bridge over the Narog, directly in front of Nargothrond's main gates. Thus it would be easier to reach Talath Dirnen or the Amon Ethir, the hill of the scouts.

This hill was situated about five leagues westwards of Nargothrond, where the Andram, the Long Wall, turned into the plains of Talath Dirnen. It spread out from east to west between the Amon Ereb up to Taur-en-Faroth across whole Beleriand, and where it crossed the flow of Sirion they built the Fens of Sirion in the North and the Gates of Sirion on the south side of the wall.

Finrod Felagund had enlarged the hill of Amon Ethir with great effort and equipped it with hidden watchtowers and signal fires in order to permanently overlook the Talath Dirnen and to inform the stronghold of every danger which might cross the plain. And indeed, before the bridge had been built the guards placed with the watch had had to take a great detour to the North, for only far away from the gates, where the stream of Ringil discharged into the Narog, the restless river was calm enough to wade through without danger.

Still many were unhappy with this bridge, broad and strong as it was, a safe and easy way to cross the river, but a sheer invitation for any hostile attack as well.

Gil Galad was one of those, for he remembered the horror of Tol Sirion only too well, when Sauron had overrun them without effort and only the power of Ulmo in the waters of Sirion had protected the isle. But Orodreth did not change his mind and his son was under the impression that his father had been persuaded by words, not by reason and now refused to admit his fault.

It was a difficult situation for the younger elf. Gil Galad loved his father, but he never forgot how relatively easy Orodreth had surrendered to Celegorm's and Curufin's ambitions, never forgot his father's weakness, and despite all his love there was also a small trace of disdain in his feelings.

Besides he was well aware of the charm lying in Túrin's youth and bravery and noble bearing. The Adan was very good at persuading others, a natural gift, useful for any leader, but a disadvantage if used against reason. 'Or against those who are weak in will,' he thought, both worried and angered.

He tried to talk with Túrin about his concerns, but the young Adan did not consent to reduce his actions.

"Didn't we clean the plain of Talath Dirnen nearly completely of orcs? Even up to the Falas the land has not been so safe since the Dagor Bragollach. What should be wrong about that?"

"It is not wrong," Gil Galad answered patiently. "But we mustn't extend our activities more than necessary. This is not your campaign of revenge against the orcs, Túrin, but a defence of our realm. Never forget that!"

The Man looked straight into the dark grey eyes of the elf. "I do not forget it."

During the following months Gil Galad carefully and unobtrusively ensured that Túrin's patrols led him more often to the west in direction of the Falas. Eglarest and Brithombar had been destroyed by orcs in the year after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, but Círdan had fled with many ships and a great part of his people to the south. Already in the past the Falathrim there had built numerous secret harbours along the coast, in the estuary of the Sirion and on the large island of Balar, far away in the Belegaer.

But the Teleri were not content with hiding in their refuge. With their swift ships they sailed along the coast to the North and surprisingly attacked the orcs wherever they found them. Often in this they associated with elves of Nargothrond in order to encircle the enemies between them. Hidden from the inland bonfires burned on the beaches and between dunes, informing the Falathrim where to land to catch the orcs by surprise.

Here in the West Túrin fought some time and the Black Sword was missed on Talath Dirnen.

But it was already too late for Nargothrond and high in the North Morgoth made up his plans.

At this time there were also other matters than those of state worrying the lord and the lady of Nargothrond.

As much their daughter's grief on Gwindor's behalf saddened them – for they did not know anything about Finduilas' unrequited love for Túrin - and as much her brother's comfort might soothe her, it was this close relationship which disturbed their parents.

"We ought to do something, Orodreth!," Helegethir remarked one evening. "They cling too much at each other. We accepted it already for too long, but now it is time for 'Ellach to lead his own life – as it is for 'Las."

"They ever have been close," Orodreth answered. "And it always was a benefit for 'Las to have him around her."

"For a brief time it may do her good, but in the long run? She depends too much on him, dear heart. One day she will be unable to live without him. But I worry more for him than for her."

Orodreth turned and pretended to rearrange some books on a shelf lest his spouse would see his forbearing smile. It was not the first time they talked about this.

"He will marry, my love. Just give him some more time. None of my family has bonded early, so why should he? And if he meets the right woman even his affection for Finduilas will not withhold him."

Helegethir frowned. "That is not the point. Don't you see that an overly close bond between them could have fatal consequences? What if Finduilas had died after Gwindor disappeared, when we thought him dead? I fear 'Ellach wouldn't have survived it as well. It is not the right way, Orodreth. I can feel it; it is for no good – not for her and not for him."

He left the shelf and approached her. "And what is your proposal? Do you want to cure him from his love to his sister?" he asked while caressing her neck and collarbone with an affectionate smile.

She had to return his smile, she always had had to. She loved him, and even after all these years this love had not dwindled, just the opposite, had grown in depth and strength.

And that was the very reason why it was so difficult to clothe her worries in words. What could be wrong if one elf loved another? How could her deep feelings for Orodreth be proper when at the same time she had undefined fears because 'Ellach felt towards 'Las in the same way?

Not for a single moment Helegethir thought her son to feel for his sister other than allowed, of that she was sure. It was not the nature but the depth of his emotion which frightened her.

"I do not want to 'cure' him from it. But maybe it would be wise to separate them for a while? He could visit Thingol and Melian in Doriath or go to the west and assist Círdan."

"Doriath," Orodreth instantly answered. "It is less far away and haven't you wished to visit your family there for a long time? He can escort you; thereby it would not be as obtrusive as when we would simply send him away."

"So you agree with me?"

He kissed her forehead. "I do not know if you are right, but I do trust your intuition."

Helegethir laid her arms around her spouse's chest and pulled him close. She dearly wished her fears were exaggerated.

His successes made Túrin proud, and bitterness was in his heart when he remembered Doriath, from where he still felt himself expelled. Even though the king had decided he was not to blame for what had happened, he could not forget the expression in Mablung's face who had deemed him guilty as he found Túrin beside the dead body of Saeros(3) . When he now compared this to the honours the elves of Nargothrond bestowed upon him, the young man felt a bitter twinge in his heart.

But Túrin never stopped long enough to notice that it actually was longing for his foster-parents Thingol and Melian and the supposed irretrievable loss of them which tortured him so much.

So he became haughty and tried to have his way in all matters. Often enough he succeeded in this, for Orodreth trusted him and found the young Adan's boldness only the more admirable regarding his weaker body of the Secondborn. And the lord of Nargothrond was wise enough to recognise Túrin's pain. He could not still it, but he could try to distract him.

Unfortunately the king was not wise enough to understand that the young man more and more took it for granted to get his wishes fulfilled.

Some opposed Túrin in the council, recommended caution and referred to the painful defeats the elves suffered on their past attacks on Morgoth. Especially Gwindor reminded them again and again of Angband's terrible power which he alone of all council members knew firsthand.

But most of the advisers thought to hear nothing than fear for the past horrors in his words. They never reproached him for this fear, but neither did they pay much attention to his warnings.

Gil Galad did not speak against Túrin, and only if his plans seemed him too foolhardy he tried to change them. But he took it badly that the Adan more and more behaved like a lord of Nargothrond and made decisions which actually belonged to Orodreth alone. And also he took it badly that the king allowed Túrin to do so. The time of Celegorm's and Curufin's usurpation also had left its marks on him, and maybe he saw more in Túrin's behaviour and less of his father's wisdom in this matter than actually was present.

Finally he decided to at least utter his misgivings.

Since Orodreth had begun to teach his son the more boring sides of ruling they spent much time together in the king's large study. There Gil Galad had to take care for the correspondence, to draft letters and also to write them out after his draft was either approved or corrected. It was not something he would appreciate, but he was the heir and so he had to take it as one of his duties.

Today, however, Orodreth found his son's mind as absent as his handwriting erratic.

"Why do you allow Túrin to endanger us all?" the younger elf asked abruptly.

The king looked up from his book. A brow was inquiringly lifted. "I thought it was you who supported his plans so enthusiastically?"

"I supported to be more active and not to treat every traveller in the realm as an enemy. But these...these raids, these growing patrols – they are too conspicuous."

"No!" Orodreth firmly closed his book, put it down on the desk and rose. "I admit that sometimes youth's exuberance gets the best of him, but he will learn. And we have been hesitating too long, my son, much too long. I won't make the same fault I've already made in the days of Celegorm and Curufin!"

The king turned around and moved to one of the many windows, watching the starlit night. The study had been carved high up in the mountain to provide it with much light as possible.

"Why do you suddenly turn against him so vehemently, 'Ellach?" he asked.

"I am not for or against 'him', father. I am for or against the decisions being made and on which our people's lives depend. And in my opinion Túrin's decisions more and more serve his own pride and desire for revenge. There is a difference between attacking to defend the realm and attacking to improve the attacker's praise."

"Or is it because your sister likes Túrin and called him her 'second brother' yesterday?"

The younger elf jumped up from his seat and speechlessly gaped at his father. Once, twice he started to speak, but failed.

Orodreth turned and gave him a searching glance. "Now?"

"Is...is this what you think of me?" Gil Galad eventually managed to whisper. "That it is jealousy which makes me speak this way?"

"Is it?’Las always meant a great deal to you and already when she fell in love with Gwindor I noticed how difficult it had been for you to take the second place behind him." Orodreth sighed. "I've thought about it for some time and now it seems to be the right moment. 'Ellach, as you know your mother has long yearned to visit her family on Doriath. Much too seldom has she had an opportunity to see them since they headed for safety in Thingol's realm after the Dagor Bragollach. And thanks to Túrin's activities, which you condemn so easily, the way is presently safer than it has been for years. And I think you should escort her."

Gil Galad nearly dropped the quill he still held in his hand. "You...you want to send me away? You can't be serious!"

"I am deadly serious about this."

"Why?" the younger elf asked fiercely. "Surely there are others who can go, why should I of all people-"

Orodreth tolerated much from his children but even he had his limits. "I would have thought," he interrupted his son, "that you'd be eager to give your mother protection."

"Of course I am and that you know very well! But-"

"Finellach."

"-only because I do not agree with Túrin-"

"Finellach."

At Orodreth's tone his son stopped at once and looked down, cheeks reddening in a sudden blush. He took a deep steadying breath.

"Forgive me, father. I apologise for losing my temper."

"Yes, you lost it. And I gladly forgive you. But more than anything else this shows me how necessary it is for you to learn appropriate behaviour and to restrain yourself. Surely Thingol and Melian can teach you that. And they probably will be happy to see at least one of their kin again."

Quickly Gil Galad looked up, the remaining red in his cheeks suddenly turning to white. "One? You mean 'Las will stay here?"

"Yes. I want her to take care of Gwindor."

'And I want you both to be separated for a while,' Orodreth thought in memory of Helegethir's words. In face of the all-too-palpable feelings on his son's face he was inclined to believe the misgivings of his spouse.

He returned to his chair and took up his book, in this moment a small barrier against his son's shock.

"Go now and ask your mother when she would like to depart. At the moment the weather is not suited for travel, but as soon as the sun increases its power and Talath Dirnen has drained you should start your journey."

The hurt in Gil Galad's eyes was distinct. Slowly the younger elf nodded.

"I understand. I will do as you command, my lord," he said with cold politeness and briefly bit on his lower lip. Then he turned and left the room.

"I doubt that, my dear boy," Orodreth said in a low voice after the door closed. "I strongly doubt that you understand my reasons."

Gil Galad informed his mother of the king's decision, and then he went to the stables and saddled his dapple-grey horse. He led it out of the dwelling and left on one of the small paths.

As he reached the less steep slopes of the High Faroth where the sandstone dropped southwards towards the Taur-en-Faroth, he spurned his stallion to a fierce gallop. He rode without any destination, just following the changing paths, until he felt the exhaustion of the animal beneath him.

He stopped. The fast ride had done much to soothe his strain, but still he was excited. At a small stream running quickly in his bed carved in the stone he dismounted and allowed the horse to drink. Meanwhile he leaned against its shoulder and followed the patterns in the grey fur with a slightly trembling finger.

"It's so easy," he said – to himself, to the horse, to the rocks, he couldn't have told. "So Túrin managed that even criticism of his behaviour isn't allowed any longer. So he achieved that my own father sends me away on his behalf!"

As always when finding himself at an improper or unwanted thought he shortly bit his lower lip. Orodreth wouldn't send him away on Túrin's behalf, that was for sure. Never had he had any reason to doubt his father's love.

"But why? Why is he so eager to get me out of Nargothrond?"

He became aware of his own thirst and quickly twined his long dark hair together in his neck, so he could scoop some water from the stream and drink unhindered. Then he rubbed some of the cold water unto his face. Its chill bit his skin.

Only long after sunset did he return to the hidden dwelling.

Just as Orodreth was about to leave the study for his wife's chamber, Helegethir entered the large room. He sat down on a bench along a wall and patted invitingly beside him on the wood.

"He told you?"

With slow steps the queen approached him and lowered herself beside her spouse.

"He told me, yes." With both hands she gripped the fabric of her gown, a habit Orodreth long had learned to read as an indication of anger. "And I wonder what you had in mind to treat him that way!"

"Didn't we agreed to separate 'Ellach and 'Las for a while and that it would most unobtrusive to send him for Doriath in your company?"

"We did, but I certainly not meant that it should be done this way! He was angry, Orodreth, angry and hurt. What has happened?"

"Our son," the king answered sharply, offended by her accusing tone, "had the impression that my way of handling Túrin is wrong. He made quite clear that in his opinion this young man is a threat for us and asked me how I could allow this. As if I would not be well aware of the danger we all live in!"

Helegethir turned her face to her husband but only caught sight of his fair hair as he looked straight ahead to the opposite wall. She guessed a little of his fear not to fill the position he occupied against his will and his pain of bearing no comparison with Finrod Felagund.

"Of course it was wrong of him to doubt your ability to judge the situation," she said. "But don't you see? Now he must have the impression he is sent away only because he criticised Túrin, brushed aside because he does not share your opinion."

He reached out and began to gently unfasten her fingers from the fabric. "I do not know what is in his mind, 'Ethir. But surely you have noticed how he lately has begun to more and more doubt Nargothrond's policy, my policy. I don't mind if he expresses his opinion openly, but it makes a bad impression when the son of the king permanently disagrees with the king."

"'Ellach is grown-up. He can't follow your example forever; he has to find his own way."

"That may be right," Orodreth answered and loosened her other hand from the gown. "But I am much relieved that at least he had the decency not to publicly use the tone he just stroke towards me."

"You do not try to tell me he lacked the proper respect?"

"No – he just in time remembered what he owes his father."

The queen frowned. "That does not sound like our son."

Orodreth leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He laughed humourlessly. "Maybe he reacted this way because shortly before I asked him if he was jealous of Túrin since Finduilas called him her brother." He looked at his wife with meaningful lifted brows. "It seemed to deeply unnerve him."

"So much that he…" she spoke to herself.

For a while they remained silent, both engulfed in their own thoughts. Then Helegethir rose and Orodreth instantly followed her.

"Your decision was right, but forgive me, you voiced it wrong. Please try to show our son that he is not expelled for uttering criticism."

Three weeks later Helegethir and Gil Galad left Nargothrond, accompanied by some guards. Many of the elven folk had come to bid their queen and prince farewell.

The morning was cool but not really cold, and an early mist lay over the riverbed, veiling the water and slightly muffling its sound. It would be a good day for travelling.

The travellers stood in their grey, weatherproof cloaks at the end of the meadow spreading out in front of the gates. They waited, examined the sky for any signs of the weather, checked the fit of the saddlebags (4) or just had a little talk with friends and family.

Helegethir and Gil Galad said their goodbyes and in these two unobtrusive elves, both with their dark hair bound back in neat braids and slender swords at their sides, nobody would have recognised the queen and the heir of Nargothrond.

Orodreth kissed them and sadly noticed his son's muscles tense under his touch. He had really tried to show 'Ellach he was not sent away as a punishment, but he feared not to be much successful. In the end he took Gil Galad in a less kingly but fierce embrace.

"I love you, my son," he whispered in a hoarse voice. And was relieved when his embrace was returned silently but full of affection.

Finduilas was standing between Túrin and Gwindor as was often her habit in these times and her face was sad. Scarcely had she ever been separated from her brother for such a long time, let alone her from her mother. It was a relief to know at least her father would stay; it would become silent and lonely without the half of her family. She intensely embraced both.

"Why can't I come with you?" she asked her mother.

Helegethir caressed her daughter's cheek. "I already told you, Finduilas. You have other tasks in Nargothrond," she curtly nodded towards Gwindor, "and someone has to fulfil the duties of the queen in my absence. You're grown-up, now you bear responsibility not only towards your family but mostly towards your people."

"I do know that, mother. But still I wish I could accompany you."

With an amused smile the queen shifted her daughter in direction of Orodreth. "And leave your father lonely and forlorn? Do you want me to steal both his children from him?"

The king laughed quietly and laid an arm around his daughter. "That's true, without any doubt I would become completely 'forlorn' in this dwelling which is crammed with elves!"

Túrin said good-bye to the queen and her son in a friendly way. He did not bear any grudge against Gil Galad, in spite of his contradiction in the council.

"Take care of your mother, and I will watch over our sister," he said.

"I will do so. And you protect our home. Do not risk anything, Túrin."

"I won't." Then he took Gil Galad aside. "I have a request to you."

"A request?"

"Make sure that no one in Doriath learns about me."

Gil Galad glanced inquiringly at Túrin. "You ought to know how much they worry on your behalf. Why shouldn't they know where you are and how you fare?"

"I have my reasons, believe me." He gripped the elf's arm. "Promise me, Gil Galad."

"All right, I promise."

"To inform no one – no one! – of me and my presence?"

"I won't tell anyone about you. And I will take care that none of the others do. What is, by the way, highly unlikely since except for myself only mother knows Mormegil's true identity. I will speak with her about it."

"Thank you. Have a good journey and may the Valar protect your ways."

"And yours, Túrin."

Sixteen elves they were and they intended to cross Talath Dirnen in thirteen days. But the weather grew worse and so they needed more than a half moon-cycle to reach Menegroth.

There they were warmly welcomed by Thingol and Melian and they also met Galadriel, who still lived there together with her husband Celeborn.

Helegethir and Gil Galad stayed in the Thousand Caves for a couple of days. The news of Beleg Cúthalion's death had already reached the Hidden Realm and the guests from Nargothrond now told what they heard from Gwindor about Beleg, always careful not to reveal too much. The apparent sorrow of Thingol for his foster-son Túrin, however, touched the queen of Nargothrond and her son.

On the evening before their departure for Helegethir's relatives who lived across the Esgalduin in Neldoreth, about one day of travelling apart from Menegroth, Gil Galad used a chance meeting with the lady Melian for a talk about this.

"Lady, may I have a word with you about your foster-son?"

She looked at him, inscrutable but not surprised and he wondered how much 'chance' their meeting might be.

"Gwindor...he also met Túrin," he said, half amused and half angered about the awkward tone of his voice. "I promised not to say more about this meeting. But at that time he was well."

The queen studied him with her beautiful bright eyes. "And?"

"I think it would be good if an according rumour would reach the king. It may lessen his sorrows."

She smiled in face of this elf, torn between the promise he made and the sympathy for Thingol. "Why do you tell me this, Gil Galad? Why don't you go to my husband and tell him directly?"

In spite of all due respect still he had to smile ironically. "Because he is wise enough to ask such clever questions that he will find out what I promised to keep secret – and you're wise enough to leave it at that."

Until the late of summer Gil Galad remained with his mother in the house of his grandfather Laerion. Helegethir much enjoyed the reunion with her family, to hear the dialect of her youth and to be not a queen but only sister and daughter.

The peaceful surroundings also had a calming effect on Gil Galad. Yet often he thought of Finduilas and wondered how she might fare but he found no real reason for worries, as long Gwindor and Orodreth were with her. So his fëa eventually found some peace.

But finally they had to decide if they would use the last warm autumnal days for the travel home or spend the winter in Doriath. And they decided to depart, for they both longed for their home and those they loved.

---

Chapter End Notes

 

(1) The knowledge of Tùrin's life in Doriath: Túrin was about 20 when he reached Nargothrond. Most likely there had been messengers between Doriath and Nargothrond at least once a year, and since Tolkien has been called it very unusual that Thingol accepted Túrin as his foster-son, the messengers of Doriath surely will have mentioned it.

(2) The darkness of Nargothrond: this may sound exaggerated, but even Tolkien wrote in the Silmarillion (on occasion of Celegorm's speech when Beren came to Nargothrond searching help): "...but with stealth and ambush, with wizardry and venomed dart, they pursued all strangers, forgetting the bonds of kinship. Thus they fell from the valour and freedom of the Elves of old, and their land was darkened." So at least he thought their land 'darkened' and personally I find it a very alarming thing, for I read from it that they even killed elves. Elves killing elves? A fourth Kinslaying? Maybe not *that* serious, but serious enough.

(3) Túrin's flight from Doriath: about Túrin's fight with Saeros which led to his flight from Doriath see the 'Silmarillion', XXI 'Of Túrin Turambar' and the 'Unfinished Tales', II 'Narn I Hîn Húrin', 'Túrin in Doriath`.

(4) Saddlebags: though it is said that the elves don't use saddles, in the 'Lord of the Rings' Glorfindel has one when he met Aragorn and the Hobbits. I think, on short journeys it may possible to ride without a saddle, but when e.g. saddlebags are required they have to fasten somehow. Moreover a saddle gives the rider a better support and it is said to be better for the horse's back. I will learn to ride later in my life so at the moment I have to rely on what I read in corresponding discussions about elves and riding.

2nd AN:

Okay, now all preparations are made. The set is ready for the destruction of Nargothrond...