Stigma. by hennethgalad

stigma - Face The Music

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Read stigma - Face The Music

Stigma.

Face The Music

 

   Turgon's small diplomatic corps had provided Tuor with a fair dwelling on the slopes by the palace, tended by a small staff, who produced raiment and served meals and treated Tuor like a visiting dignitary. Tuor tried not to think of his prior existence, he knew that if he did he would be at risk of hysterical laughter or a destructive rage. He lingered over a solitary lunch, his dining room overlooked an elegant garden, tall poplars lined a shallow decorative pool, paved with gleaming white marble. The memory of the rough cave in which he had dwelt before Voronwë's shipwreck, and the contrast with this gracious house, forced a snort of laughter from him; truly the Music of the Ainur was not within the grasp of a mortal, especially one as ignorant and poorly educated as he himself.

 One of Turgon's servants entered 'Sir, The Lord Glorfindel, Captain of the House of Golden Flowers, waits upon you.'

 Tuor blinked, then translated the formal court speech into a form he could comprehend.
'Glorfindel is here ? In the house ?' he said, leaping eagerly to his feet. All these weeks in Gondolin, the elves had been universally kind, he could think of nothing that they had not already provided; and yet, he felt himself to be apart, an outsider, friendless and alone. But Glorfindel knew everyone, any help provided by such a popular figure could transform Tuor's life. Just one introduction, thought Tuor, if I could just make one friend...

  Glorfindel's laughter could be heard before he even entered, and the beaming servant led the darling of Gondolin into the sunlit room.
'Greetings, Tuor, son of Huor, I am Glorfindel, it is my honour to make your acquaintance, and to apologize for the intrusion.' he held a hand to his chest and bowed. Tuor took a step forward and echoed the gesture

  'On the contrary, the honour is mine, and I thank you for the welcome respite from my own silent company. May I offer you some refreshment ?'
Glorfindel smiled warmly 'Some fruit juice perhaps ?'
The servant smiled, bowed and withdrew. Tuor swallowed nervously, his own servants were devoted to Glorfindel, he himself could not help but admire him from afar, there was something glowing to him, it gave Tuor the impression that if he stood close to Glorfindel, he himself would benefit from the radiance. He smiled, gestured to a chair and said 'Will you have a seat ? Or perhaps in the garden ?'

  Glorfindel glanced out of the open doors at the neat, formal garden, smiled briefly and sat opposite Tuor.
'I have come to invite you to dine with Ecthelion and I this evening, unless you have a prior engagement ?'
Tuor pursed his lips 'I had thought of attending the concert the flautists are giving in the park, but I would be delighted to join you both.'

 Glorfindel beamed 'Excellent ! ' he cried 'Our house adjoins the park, we had intended to dine in the garden and surprise you with the mysterious music, but if you already wished to attend, why, that is even better. ' He put his head on one side and looked thoughtfully at Tuor for a moment 'Would you... can I persuade you to come with me at once ? Ecthelion, well, both of us, wish to... we have something to discuss with you...'

  Tuor stood hastily 'Is something the matter ? Have I offended you, or another ?'

  Glorfindel also stood, but smiling 'On the contrary, all is well. Indeed, I am hoping that you will think we are bringing good fortune to you, rather than complaints.'
Tuor heaved an unsteady sigh, and his tense muscles eased 'My Lord Glorfindel, like all who dwell in fair Gondolin, I have longed for an invitation, of any sort, from you. To be invited to dine with you and Lord Ecthelion, and for "good fortune" exceeds my most fanciful daydream.'
Glorfindel smiled delightedly 'Truly, you were raised by elves. Stars shine upon the hour of our meeting !'

 

  The house of Glorfindel and Ecthelion charmed Tuor; the doors, which stood wide, had sleek curtains of water on either side, falling smoothly into sparkling culverts which foamed away around the sides of the house. Inlaid into the cream marble walls, a vine of gold flowers wreathed around the doorway. The many windows were open, the spring sunshine glowed on the profusion of flowers spilling forth from the boxes along every window ledge.

  Tuor gazed up with shining eyes, then turned to Glorfindel 'How lovely your home is ! I do not think I have ever been more eager to cross a threshold.'
  Glorfindel smiled subtly, but led the way into a courtyard almost overgrown with fruit trees and vines. In the centre a small, solid gold gorse bush acted as conduit for the water fountaining into the bright air; as Tuor moved forwards a rainbow flickered across the gleaming spray. Tuor sighed happily and beamed at Ecthelion, who had risen to greet him, smiling cautiously. But Glorfindel had seemingly danced across the open space, kissed Ecthelion, and sat down while picking up a goblet, in one swift flowing movement that left even one such as Tuor, who was accustomed to the grace and agility of elves, breathless. He was relieved to see that even Ecthelion, who had long been used to Glorfindel, looked a little startled. They sat down, and Glorfindel raised his glass 'To friendships, old and new .'

 They smilingly joined him; it was pale white wine mixed with some of the clear sparkling water the miners had discovered in the hills. Though the water was slightly salt, its addition to wine produced a light refreshing drink eminently suited to a spring afternoon. After a while Tuor looked at Ecthelion, the merest hint of a question on his face. Ecthelion blinked and said 'Ah.'

  Glorfindel inhaled, and sat up straight in his chair. They looked at each other, then Glorfindel laughed 'Very well. I know you are right.' he turned to Tuor, frowned briefly, and said

  'Son of Huor, the things I shall say may be construed as offensive. Let me assure you that offence is the very opposite of what I, what we, wish to cause. We wish to help you feel welcome in Gondolin, we would like to offer you a little companionship, a few introductions, some advice on the customs of our city, in short, to guide you while you make your home among us.'

  Tuor gaped, this was hospitality on a scale he had never dared hope for. He looked at Ecthelion, whose face was happy but apprehensive. Tuor turned to Glorfindel 'My Lord I am confused. This is an offer of marvellous generosity and I cannot imagine how it could be considered offensive.'

  Glorfindel nodded slowly 'The offensive words have not yet been uttered...'
'It is your beard ' blurted Ecthelion suddenly, and blushed, burying his face in his goblet. Glorfindel put a hand over his eyes, then smoothed away his frown. He looked up at the astonished Tuor, whose own hand had rised to touch the smooth pale gold hair on his chin.

   'There is... I have heard a song, in a low tavern, mocking your beard. I am concerned both for the offence caused to you, and for the malice that creates such songs, and is fostered by hearing and singing them. This city, this little kingdom, is closed, there is no leaving here. We must remain in this pool, and strive to keep the water sweet.'

   'I understand, and I thank you for your concern, but what can I do ? The hair has grown on my face since I was nineteen, I cannot prevent it, I am a mortal man, it is my fate.'

  Ecthelion cleared his throat and stirred in his chair 'Ah, well, that is where I, where we, enter; I think we can help you to blend in, to appear as one of us, in order that people will interact with your mind, rather than your... your...' he paused, but Tuor laughed and said 'My beard ?'

  Glorfindel laughed and drank deeply, then turned to Tuor 'You are not offended ? You will allow us to help you ?'

   'Offended ? I assure you, My Lords, your offer has had the opposite effect to offending me. I am flattered at your attention, touched by your concern, and grateful for all the help you have offered. But I do not see what can be done to prevent my hair from growing, unless there is some elvish magic or medicine of which I am unaware.'

   Glorfindel and Ecthelion looked at each other again; Tuor could almost see them glowing with mutual love. The sight warmed his heart, but left an icy ache; he was trapped among elves, to whom he was a mere fleeting visitor, the whole of his lifespan would be as but a season to them, there could be no love for him here. He felt cold, that he would never, could never, know the joy which was so apparent in Ecthelion and Glorfindel. But Glorfindel turned to him

   'Neither magic nor medicine, but craft and skill. You are aware that Ecthelion is a sculptor ?'
Tuor raised his eyebrows with a smile 'Aware ? King Turgon himself personally conducted me on a tour of the Fountains of the Valar.' he looked at Ecthelion 'I am as astounded as everyone else by the delight of their beauty, the fountains turn the park into a place of wonder.'

  Ecthelion blushed and bowed, Glorfindel laughed 'Raised by elves...' he said 'And so, Tuor, we would remove your beard with sharp blades.'
There was a short silence. But Tuor was young, brave and eager to fit in, and he trusted completely the skill of Ecthelion's hands. He glanced down at the long strong fingers holding up Ecthelion's goblet, and thought briefly of what those hands could do. His eyes met those of Ecthelion and he nodded silently. Glorfindel sprang to his feet 'Excellent !' he cried 'Let us do this thing at once !'

  Following behind him, Ecthelion turned to Tuor and said softly 'Thank you for humouring him; as you say, the hair will grow back, you may choose at any time to return to your, ah, natural appearance. Having said that, if you wish to remain beardless, I fear that we shall have to remove the hair frequently, though I do not know the pace of growth of the hair of mortals. '

  Tuor looked perturbed 'But My Lord, I cannot put you to all this trouble, really, its...' But Ecthelion held up his hand 'It is not "trouble", it is interesting, in many ways. I am personally interested because my love is concerned about you, and the effect of your presence. I am personally curious to see how people react to you looking like an elf. And I am most interested of all in the actual physical task of removing your hair without cutting up, or off, your face.'

  Tuor looked at him with wide-open eyes, and swallowed nervously. Ecthelion grinned darkly then laughed 'Have no fear, my friend, I have very steady hands, and much skill at carving.'

 Tuor nodded gratefully and followed him into an airy bathroom.
The bath was sunken, the tiles and the steps, like the main door, were inlaid with gold flowers. Three gold sprays of flowers hung from the white marble ceiling. Glorfindel moved a golden handle and a shower of water cascaded from the sculpted flowers 'Look Tuor, look what Ecthelion made for us, three of these indoor fountains, one runs cold, one runs hot, and one is warm enough to stand under for a long time. They are marvellously refreshing, I hope you will try them.'
Ecthelion laughed dryly 'When we have removed his beard, he will be forced to try them, he will be covered in his own hair. Indeed, I anticipate that this whole room will be covered in small pieces of hair. Fortunately' he leaned up and twisted the golden flowers, the spray could be moved to aim anywhere 'this room can be easily cleaned.'

  They led the gaping Tuor to a seat, wrapped a thick towel around his shoulders and Ecthelion stood in front of him, looking seriously at him
'This is your own wish ? To look like one of us ?'

  Tuor nodded 'Oh yes, to not feel like an outsider, well, I would sacrifice more than a little hair.'
Ecthelion lowered his eyelids and nodded, then, his hands moving faster than Tuor could see from such an awkward angle, began to trim the fine hair. Glorfindel stood watching, fascinated. Ecthelion never let him see him at work, arguing, rightly, Glorfindel grinned to himself, that Glorfindel would interrupt him constantly. But with the blade so close to the throat of Tuor, even the impulsive Glorfindel was still and silent. Finally Ecthelion straightened and looked at Glorfindel.

  'Foam ? Are you sure ?' said Glorfindel

  Ecthelion nodded 'I do understand what you mean about grease, but I think the hair must be cut as swiftly as possible, and that foam will not slow the passage of the blade.'

  Glorfindel smiled 'Of course, you are the learned one, how can I dispute ?'
Ecthelion laughed 'How can you restrain yourself ?' And Glorfindel's lips twisted as he considered a reply. Tuor smiled, warmed by their love; he felt at home with them as he had not felt since he was a child, and delighted by their playful teasing. Glorfindel was adding water to a bowl and swiftly stirring the contents with a finger-sized paint brush. Tuor wondered if this was the foam; Ecthelion caught his frown 'It is merely soap, but Glorfindel will render it into a thick creamy foam, which will allow the blade to pass close to your skin, removing the hair as close to the roots as possible while avoiding damaging the skin. I urge you not to cry out, should I make a mistake and draw blood. It will be immediately apparent to me should this happen, and a hasty motion on your part could be, ah, damaging...'

   Tuor nodded as Glorfindel held the bowl out, he offered it to Tuor to examine, the white foam smelled of mint. 'It looks like the sort of thing they eat for dessert up at the palace' said Tuor
'Do not eat the soap, it will taste foul.' said Ecthelion, taking the bowl from Glorfindel, who grinned at Tuor

 'He is always so serious. I do try to bring some frivolity into his life...'

  Ecthelion put a hand on Tuor's shoulder 'Sit up straight, and remain still. ' he said, looking earnestly into the eyes of Tuor, who nodded and obeyed. Ecthelion painted the foam onto the now short, fair hairs of Tuor's cheeks and chin, then handed the bowl back to Glorfindel, who put it aside and picked up another, from which steam arose.

  But Ecthelion, with one last look into Tuor's eyes, began to draw the blade carefully through the foam, dipping the blade into Glorfindel's bowl between each stroke. It was surprisingly swift and painless, Tuor letting his head be tilted this way and that, or stretching his skin to allow the blade to pass. Finally Glorfindel handed Tuor a damp cloth and he stood up, wiping his face. When he trurned to face them, they both gaped at him in astonishment. Ecthelion took a step backwards, but Glorfindel said slowly, under his breath 'Eru Ilúvatar...'

  Tuor looked anxiously from one to the other 'Please, tell me what the matter is ? Has something gone wrong ?' They seemed not to hear him. Finally Ecthelion spoke, as one in a dream, to Glorfindel, but his eyes did not leave the face of Tuor 'He is even more beautiful than you are.'

  Glorfindel nodded slowly, he too gazed at Tuor, his eyes wide 'I can see him. By the Valar, Gondolin will not know what has hit it! ' he laughed 'This will make them sing a different song !'