Dancing In The Dark by Grundy

Uneasy Equilibrium

Curufinwë wasn’t thrilled when Gildor announced they would all dine in the Great Hall that night. But he’d given in quickly and with as much grace as he could muster. He could see the logic in it even if he didn’t much like it.

Tyelpë was curious to see more of his new home, and Tyelko agreed with the two youngest that it would be good for the people of Nargothrond to see with their own eyes that the princes were standing united. Curufinwë know any rejoinder he could make to that would sound far too cynical to the younger generation, so he held his tongue and asked humbly if there were any tunics of Ingo’s he might wear to look acceptable.

That was when he discovered that while he hadn’t bothered to salvage any personal possessions, Tyelpë had. Not many, it was true, but enough. Curufinwë would have scolded, but to his astonishment everyone else sympathized with Tyelpë’s excuse that he had seen no point to not dart to their quarters to pack a few changes of clothes and small keepsakes.

“Nearly everyone else did the same,” Tyelpë said, shifting uncomfortably in the face of his father’s open disapproval. “And anyway, if we didn’t have so much as a change of clothes to call our own, we’d burden our people needing to borrow from them! How would that have looked?”

“Just how,” Curufinwë demanded icily, “did ‘everyone’ manage to slip off to their own quarters as busy as we all needed to be?”

“Probably the same way I did,” Tyelpë snorted. “By making sure they were pulling their weight, and picking their moment. When everyone around them was at their tasks, saying they’d be back in a quarter of an hour at most, then keeping to that and covering for their fellows so they could do the same in turn. You’d have a lot more trouble on your hands if people had left everything behind except whatever the quartermaster and master at arms assigned them!”

Tyelko was making a ‘leave it’ gesture behind the kids’ backs, so Curufinwë – against his better judgement – did.

“You’re welcome to make a show of appearing in my clothes if you prefer,” Gildor offered wryly. “We’re near enough the same height and build that they should fit you. But I don’t see the point. Tyelpë didn’t grab you any finery, just sensible workaday clothes. No one can possibly argue with that. Findë and I won’t be wearing anything fancy, so we won’t make you look shabby by comparison.”

“Maybe we should quietly let our people know they should keep their most needful things ready to grab up at a moment’s notice?” Finduilas mused, looking troubled. “Aglon had several hours’ notice, but by the sound of it, you also had a much wider view and could see the danger coming a long way off. Even our highest watchpoints don’t see that far. If all this storm and darkness continue, we may not know it’s time to go until the enemy is nearly upon us.”

“You’re like as not to frighten your people, saying things like that,” Tyelko warned.

“Our people are talking to yours. If hearing that will frighten them, odds are they’re already scared,” Finduilas shot back. “Besides, they should see the sense in it. How far do you think we would get with nothing but the clothes on our backs and whatever happens to be close at hand when we run for it? Ulmo’s protection or not, I doubt we’d make Nan Tathren, never mind the Bay of Balar. And that’s where we’d need to reach to be safe.”

“We don’t need to decide anything tonight,” Gildor said quickly, before it could become a true argument. “We have at least a few days breathing space. Morgoth can whip his orcs as hard as he likes, unless he gives them all wings, there’s no way they can cover the distance from Tol Sirion or Mithrim to here in only a day or two.”

“Enough,” Curufinwë sighed before Tyelko could take exception. “We can think more on the details of potential retreat routes after dinner. The boy is right, we have at least a few days to pull ourselves together and come up with a plan. For tonight, the task is to present a unified public front. That will be easier if we’re not already arguing amongst ourselves.”

He might not agree with all their ideas, but at least the kids were proving to have solid, sensible heads on their shoulders.

He discovered at dinner that Gildor had more than that. The boy had learned a fair bit from Ingo. The speech he gave in the Great Hall hit all the right notes, presenting the arrival of the refugees from Aglon as an unlooked for blessing, ‘bolstering our strength in this trying time’. He also played on the pride of his people, intimating that the people of Aglon and Himlad  had chosen to come to Nargothrond as the safest place they knew.

From what Curufinwë could see, it went over well. So did Tyelpë, who Gildor introduced enthusiastically. Nargothrond might be slightly less sure what to make of him and Tyelko – it had been one thing when Ingo was here, but in his absence his people were less certain. But both Gildor and Finduilas were clearly fond of Tyelpë, and Nargothrond took their cue from them. His older son’s slight bashfulness in the face of so much attention made him look modest and unassuming, which would hopefully reassure any of Ingo’s people inclined to worry about the arrival of three princes from the senior branch of the House of Finwë.

That his son answered readily to ‘Celebrimbor’ also helped.

When he and his brother circulated among the others dining in the hall after Gildor’s speech, speaking to both their own people and to Ingo’s, Curufinwë found more than one group eager to hear anything he could tell them of the war. He had to disappoint the folk of Nargothrond with the admission that he knew little more than his own part in it, and had learned a good deal from Gildor and Finduilas on arrival.

What he could share would not quiet all fears, but he did try to dispel rumors where he could. No, so far as he knew Himring had not fallen. He would not believe that Ambarussa had been caught out on the plains unless he heard reliable reports to the contrary. ‘Caranthir’ was a fool if he hadn’t fled either over the mountains or south to Amon Ereb – he was far too canny to have been penned in at Helevorn.

He did not tell them about his brother’s beacon system, which should have meant Moryo had news that Angband was on the move nearly as fast as Kano or Maitimo did. In retrospect, it might have been wiser had the rest of them imitated him instead of scoffing. If they had known the full extent of the assault within an hour, instead of guessing!

He wondered if there was any practical way to implement a similar early warning system for Nargothrond. The problem, of course, would be how to spread the beacons across the plains without either exposing the watchers to unreasonable risk or revealing where their signals were intended to converge… Perhaps if they kept the beacons going all the way down Andram, making it look as if they were intended for the benefit of Amon Ereb?

He also found it heartening that his people and Tyelko’s were mingling easily with Ingo’s. Noldor or not, their presence seemed to hearten Nargothrond. He couldn’t tell if it was the boost from feeling themselves to be doing a good thing by taking in refugees, the flattery Gildor had laid on in implying this was such a place of safety it had been their first choice, the reassurance of extra personnel who could help with everything from manning the ranks should it come to a fight to helping fill craft rosters left emptier than they should be by all who had marched out with Ingo, or some combination.

Judging by how well some people seemed to be getting on, there might even be a marriage or two in the making. He supposed there were worse things.

“I think it’s sweet!” Finduilas exclaimed when he mentioned it in the family quarters afterward. “People finding the mate meant for them when they’ve been on opposite sides of Beleriand all these years.”

Gildor’s expression indicated he was already well familiar with his best friend’s romantic side and knew better than to argue. Curufinwë decided it was best not to say he agreed with her. (Though if forced to admit it, he would cover with more practical reasons.)

“I’ll want to check over your armor tomorrow, both of you,” he said briskly, looking for a good change in subject. “I don’t expect you’ll need it anytime soon, but better to be prepared.”

Gildor nodded as if this was no surprise to him. Finduilas looked bemused.

“I don’t have armor,” she told him.

Both her uncles and Tyelpë stared at her in astonishment.

“But… surely Ango,” Tyelko began before Finduilas’ wobbly lip and Curufinwë’s sharp elbow reminded him it was neither wise nor tactful to speak of their younger cousin in front of his granddaughter just yet.

“You’ll be getting armor, then,” Curufinwë said flatly. “Tyelpë, see to it. First thing tomorrow morning get her measurements and draw up the designs.”

Finduilas looked alarmed.

“It won’t be finished tomorrow,” Tyelpë hastened to assure her. “I’ll just be getting started. Once you show me where I can set up to work.”

“I won’t be doing any fighting,” Finduilas protested. “I don’t even know how!”

“Really?” Curufinwë asked curiously. “I’d have thought your mother…”

“Nana let Atto and Grandfather have their way even though she thought it was stupid. She said she has to pick her battles.”

“Don’t we all,” Tyelko muttered.

Curufinwë frowned. He’d have thought that one worth fighting in Merilin’s place.

“Well, we can talk it over with her should she turn up, but in your parents’ absence, Tyelko and I are your nearest elder kin, and we say you’re learning at least some basics as soon as may be. Tyelpë, make sure she gets a sword as well.”

“Make it a smaller one,” Tyelko advised, eyeing her. “And a knife or two for close in or throwing as needed.”

“Anything else?” Tyelpë sighed, clearly expecting there would be more. He was well acquainted with Tyelko’s belief that you could never have too many options when it came to weapons. “Bow, arrows, perhaps a spear?”

“Don’t get carried away, boy,” Tyelko said firmly. “We’re not looking to make her a front line fighter, just to equip her to make it out alive if she winds up in an ambush. You could probably stand to brush up on your skills as well, come to that.”

Gildor snickered. Finduilas looked delighted.

“All three of you will take this seriously,” Curufinwë warned them sternly. “The time for treating defense as a lark is over.”

As was Curufinwë having any patience with courtly Tirion nonsense about what nissi could or could not do. Tyelko knew enough dirty tricks to train Finduilas to do whatever it took to survive. He felt sure he’d have an ally in Artanis if she could extract herself from Doriath, and likely Merilin as well.

“Am I doing this before or after the scouting trip west?” Tyelko asked.

“I don’t think that should be put off,” Gildor said. “I could always –”

“NO.”

Curufinwë was pleased to find his older brother of one mind with him on that.

“Tyelko can spare half a day to teach Finduilas a few fundamentals before he sets out,” he decided. “By the time he gets back, Tyelpë should have at least her sword and knives ready if not the armor. Until then, I will supervise and she can use whatever practice swords your master-at-arms has available for her. You and Tyelpë can practice as well.”

“I can’t lead from behind,” Gildor protested. “How will it look if I send Uncle out instead of me?”

“It will look like you understand that as Ingo’s regent, you are supposed to stay in the stronghold while those of us who are expendable go do the risky bits,” Tyelko sighed. “I’ll keep repeating that as often as needed until it sinks in, shall I?”

“You’re not expendable, Uncle!”

“I am, in fact. Far more than you are, boy,” Tyelko snorted. “In addition to all those brothers I have, you two are kin to Thingol – meaning you have some chance of diplomacy or at least shelter with him if it all goes sideways here. Besides, it would be cold comfort to me to outlive you kids.”

Gildor’s mouth worked soundlessly for a second, but Finduilas’ restraining hand on his shoulder kept him from rising to shout whatever it was he’d had in mind.

“Matters are that serious now,” Curufinwë added bluntly. “In terms of the survival of Nargothrond and your people, the two of you are more important than we are. Though I’ll be grateful if you could contrive to keep Tyelpë alive into the bargain.”

“Atto!”

“You’re not entangled in the Oath, Tyelperinquar,” he said quietly. “I’ve managed that much at least. So if it comes to that, you’ll evacuate with your cousins.”

“It hasn’t come to that yet,” Gildor said. His voice was firm even if he’d gone a bit pale. “And I’ve every hope we can keep it from coming to that. But if it should, I believe you had some fatal traps laid at Aglon, Uncle Curvo, to keep orcs from pursuing you too closely?”

Curufinwë nodded.

“Is there any chance you could set up something similar here? I know there isn’t much time, but I want us to have any advantage we can. If we retreat, it won’t be by the main gate. I’ve reviewed Atto’s designs, and I believe if the fortress is compromised, he meant to lure them in and neutralize as many as possible inside while we use the back doors to escape. If we can safely seal those tunnels behind us so that they can’t get through after us, and have other traps arranged outside to cut them off…”

That was sensible.

“Show me whatever drawings Ingo has first. Let’s make sure you’re not misreading them before I agree to anything,” Curufinwë said slowly.

If need be, he could probably bring the whole damn hill down. But that would do no good if it killed everyone trying to escape.

He managed to send everyone – Tyelko included – off to bed at a reasonable hour, pointing out that they had plenty to do the next day, not to mention an example to set of getting back to as much of a normal schedule as could be managed under the circumstances.

---

The children were almost cheerful at breakfast. Curufinwë suspected doing something that felt as normal as sitting down to eat with family made them feel less like the world had flown out of control. All of them actually getting a good night’s sleep also helped.

After the meal, Tyelko took Finduilas off to the small hall, which he intended to have cleared to create a private practice space for her. No sense letting the rest of Nargothrond see how unprepared their princess currently was. She could practice in the usual spaces later, once she had some basic proficiency and wouldn’t embarrass herself.

Curufinwë and Tyelpë were off to the workshops with Gildor – the boy wasn’t a smith himself, but he did know where they might both claim space without creating havoc or sparking quarrels.

Curufinwë found the other smiths surprisingly agreeable, though somewhat subdued.

Then he realized why – they were already in the process of clearing the workshop that he was to have, as its former occupant had been killed in the north.

The atmosphere improved slightly after Curufinwë sent for a bottle of wine from Ingo’s private cellar and poured glasses so all present could drink to the memory of Linhir, who had clearly been well esteemed by his peers. After a bit of reminiscing, they were ready enough to help Curufinwë rearrange the workshop to his preferences.

When he retrieved his son shortly before midday, Tyelpë had a similar story, though without the wine.  He was concerned at the idea of what he’d heard the Sindar term ‘stepping into dead man’s shoes’. Curufinwë wasn’t about to suggest he raid Ingo’s cellar, but he did give him a few tips on how best to break the ice. The boy needed to reach a good working relationship with the other craftsmen here, not be thought to be elbowing anyone aside or trading on his royal status.

They joined the others in the small hall for lunch, where they found Gildor doing a less than acceptable job of not laughing at Finduilas’ difficulties.

“You’re not going to learn if you’re worried about hitting him!” he was giggling as they entered. “That’s the whole point!”

“But I don’t want to hurt him!” Finduilas protested. “Stop – laughing – you’re – not – helping!”

Each word in the last sentence was punctuated by her aiming a smack at Gildor with the wooden sword she was using. He did a good job of dodging, but two of them did connect, and with some force judging by his winces.

“Maybe you should let the boy serve as her training dummy, she’s willing enough to hit him,” Curufinwë suggested to his brother.

Finduilas stopped at once, looking guilty.

“No, that was good!” Tyelko told her. “In a fight, you’ll need to hit your enemy like you mean it. Be nice to orcs and they’ll get ideas you will definitely not like.”

Enedrion coughed discreetly from the doorway.

“My prince,” he said. “Your pardon.”

Gildor raised an eyebrow.

“We have opened the front gate briefly to allow a group of Iathrim to enter. I judged you would not want the princess’ mother and brother to be left waiting on the doorstep. If I erred, I ask your pardon. The gate will not be opened again save at your command or your father’s return.”

Curufinwë’s jaw dropped. Brother? What news had they missed in the North?

“I could have told them myself,” a tart voice said from the corridor.

Merilin strode into the room, looking irritated with Enedrion, or possibly just with Noldorin ways in general. A small boy was trailing after her, and at the sight of Tyelko, hid behind her in a fit of shyness.

Finduilas did not bother with dignity, flying into her mother’s arms. By Merilin’s grip on her daughter, she had been equally worried. Gildor scooped up the little one with a grin.

Enedrion took that as his cue to make himself scarce before Gildor remembered he might have grounds to be annoyed with him. (If the man was clever, the food for the midday meal would appear promptly – and be delivered by someone else.)

Only after she’d seen Finduilas and given Gildor an equally careful once-over while Finduilas covered her little brother in kisses did Merilin notice the presence of anyone else.

“Well met,” Curufinwë said wryly. “I’m a bit taken aback we come as a surprise to you. I was sure your people had spotted us making our way south and west.”

“We did, but thought you were making for the sea or the Falas, not here,” Merilin replied. “Though I suppose under the circumstances, the extra strength is nothing to sniff at.”

“We weren’t sure you’d come,” Gildor said, sparing Finduilas from needing to speak.

“I had to argue rather hard with Uncle Elu, but I had an ally – Galadriel told him he could only keep one of us there, so he’d best take his pick while he still had the choice. I think he surprised us all when he chose her.”

“Count me among the surprised,” Curufinwë said sharply. “He let you travel with a small child instead? I never had the impression he was that fond of my cousin.”

Merilin shot him a quelling look – she did not appreciate him speaking so bluntly in front of the younger generation.

“My husband is in the north and my daughter here. He could see how upset I was to be so far from them with everything going on, enough so to let me to go even with little Gil to think of. Besides, allowing Galadriel to depart would have meant losing Celeborn also. They weren’t about to be parted at a time like this. If it comes to fighting on the norther border, Uncle will need him.”

“Or he kept her for spite,” Tyelko muttered.

“It could have been both,” Gildor suggested, sounding more himself by the moment. He’d swung the child up onto his shoulders, and the little one was chattering away in Sindarin, telling his older sister and cousin all about the marvelous things he’d seen and done in Menegroth.

Tyelpë looked fascinated by the little one. Curufinwë wondered if the child understood Noldorin. By the sound of it, he’d spent most of his short life so far in Doriath – the one place they knew the Ban was strictly followed.

“He is your kinsman, too, Gilya, and genuinely concerned for all of us,” Merlin said reproachfully. “He’d have brought you two to Menegroth if he could.”

“We’re in less danger than Cousin Resto,” Gildor snorted.

“We’ll speak on that later. I suppose the real question is who’s in charge here,” Merilin said, looking keenly at Curufinwë and his brother as she did.

“This is Ingo’s kingdom, we are only guests,” Curufinwë replied at once. “And very grateful for the hospitality.”

“No one in their right mind would put me in charge,” Tyelko chuckled. “Though I might be of some use if the orcs make it this far south. I don’t think any of us like the idea of this one leading the van. We keep having to explain to him that I’m the expendable one.”

Merilin had started to roll her eyes, but the second half of Tyelko’s speech drew a sharper look from her.

“Let us hope it doesn’t come to that. The latest from Brethil reported Tol Sirion reinforced and well-prepared for the next onslaught.”

“They do expect further waves, then?” Curufinwë asked in concern.

Merilin nodded, her lips compressed to a thin, worried line.

“It is far from over,” she said. “There’s some doubt we’ve even seen the end of the beginning.”

“Resto will make it back to you,” Tyelko reassured her. “The boy knows how to look after himself.”

“He’s usually more concerned with looking after his people,” Merilin replied crisply. “Also, I believe we’ve reached a point where ‘the boy’ should mean my son, not my husband? Gildor, have you bothered to do introductions?”

“They’re all boys to me,” Tyelko shrugged. “It’s not like they’re going to catch me up.”

A fleeting frown crossed his brother’s face, but Curufinwë didn’t think it the time to ask.

“At any rate, on that boy’s orders,” Tyelko continued, with a careless wave in Gildor’s direction, “I’m to lead a scouting party west. I delayed only to start this one learning a few needful things now that Ango’s not around to fuss worse than his grandmother about it. I trust I can leave that to you now?”

“Findë’s having a dreadful time learning self-defense, Auntie,” Gildor smirked. “She doesn’t want to hit anyone she knows.”

Finduilas promptly put the lie to that statement by socking him.

“Except you,” Tyelpë smirked. “Particularly if you keep needling her.”

Merilin looked from one boy to the other, and then to her daughter, before turning to Tyelko.

“I’ve a better idea,” she said. “I know the country to the west better than you do. I’ll ride with you. More eyes can do no harm, and I’ll likely spot any changes that warn of enemies sooner than you will. Surely between the two of them the older boys should be able to handle the basics?”

“What of the little one?” Tyelko asked.

“I believe I can trust Curufin to look after Gil-galad,” Merilin said slowly. “Celebrimbor seems to have survived childhood.”

Curufinwë did his best to cover his shock. They weren’t particularly close, and while she and Artë might get on, he knew perfectly well he still counted as Kinslayer to Merilin. So to hear she was willing to leave her very young son in his care…

Tyelko grinned.

“No objections here. How long before you can be ready?”

“Nana!” Finduilas protested. “You just arrived!”

“We all need to do our part, my dove,” Merilin said firmly. “Do you think your father or grandfather would expect you to be unable to manage without me?”

Finduilas was still not happy, but unable to argue further.

“Gilya, Findë, help me carry my things to my rooms. That should give us just enough time to catch up on anything needful before I’m off again.”

Curufinwë raised an eyebrow at his brother as she effortless shepherded the three youngest out ahead of her.

“Don’t you fret either,” Tyelko said as they went. “I’ll behave. And who knows, maybe I’ll learn a thing or two besides whether or not the Enemy is trying to sneak up on us again.”