Outsiders of Gondolin Mutual Defence League by Himring

Lemon Tarts of Gondolin

The first conversation.

The lemon tart was rapidly becoming a problem. It sat within easy reach in lonely splendour on a huge platter in the middle of the table, long after most of Turgon’s court had risen to dance, twirling elegantly about each other in the middle of the hall.

Salgant had resolved that he would on no account have a second helping of dessert and, up until the last couple of minutes, he had had every hope of keeping that resolution.

Now, after trying to keep a conversation going with Maeglin for about an hour, he felt himself crumbling in every way.

He had sought out Maeglin’s company out of sympathy for a fellow outsider. At least, he was sure it had been fellow feeling and compassion that had motivated him, mainly, even if maybe other not quite so noble feelings might have played a part as well.

Who could have helped feeling sorry for Maeglin after all, stranded as he was among virtual strangers, after his own father had tried to kill him and ended up killing his mother instead and then had himself been killed by Maeglin’s uncle? What a horrendous mix-up! And Maeglin was so young for it, too!

But he had quickly discovered that sympathy alone did not equip him to deal with the situation he had brought on himself. He had tried to ask Maeglin questions and received monosyllabic answers. He had trotted out his best and most entertaining anecdotes and realized that they were banal. He had tried to make jokes and they had come out flat and unfunny. Clearly, he was in no way as interesting or intelligent a conversationalist as he hoped he was. 

Despite the recent banquet, Salgant was now feeling ravenously hungry. How long could he go on ignoring that lemon tart?

‘You worry too much,’ said Maeglin, suddenly. 

Salgant blinked in surprise. It was the first comment that Maeglin had freely offered. Salgant had no idea where it was coming from. Had Maeglin actually been listening to anything he said?

‘So, we’re not like them,’ said Maeglin. ‘Why should we care?’

There was so much wrong with this that Salgant’s jaw dropped and he was stricken dumb—especially because Maeglin clearly did care, badly. 

But Maeglin picked up the tart, delicately taking the tiniest bite.

‘See?’ And he smiled, genuinely smiled at Salgant. ‘Not a problem any more. Now it’s taken.’

Chapter End Notes

Of course ultimately this friendship ends in disaster, but maybe it need not have if it hadn't been for Morgoth.

This chapter is 4 x 100 words in Word.

Prompts: "resolutions" and "mix up"