The Last Scion of Tevildo by Lindariel

And That Means Comfort

Gondolin, the summer of 456. The littlest Tevildion encounters a new kind of cave. This chapter is fluffy.

Rútaura found that riding on an Elf's shoulder was much more complicated than riding an Eagle. Glorfindel's two-legged stride was a new rhythm, and it took Rútaura a while to adjust to it. By the time he had distributed his weight evenly over Glorfindel's shoulder and settled down for the ride, he had lost track of where they were going. There was a lot of rock here. The path Glorfindel took was rock, only shining instead of dusty or muddy, and flanked by trees and bright plants as well as larger outcrops of bright rocks. He watched as Glorfindel passed many of these outcrops; some had holes with Elves going in and out of them, so he decided they were caves. He became distracted by all the new scents.

An unfamiliar roaring sound began growing in his ears as Glorfindel walked onward, and the breeze across his ears turned cool and damp. The sound crested as Glorfindel drew near two tall, silver-white trees that smelled like water, and Rútaura realized these were not trees. Instead, two elaborately branched columns of water shot up out of the stone, tried to fly, and fell back each into a large basin of stone. Overtaken by a sudden thirst, Rútaura leapt down from Glorfindel's shoulder and darted toward the nearer basin. He perched on the edge of it and reached down with a paw, scooping the water into his mouth as quickly as he could. He had never tasted such delicious water. He kept scooping, barely noticing as Glorfindel walked up behind him and chuckled.

When Rútaura finally stopped drinking, he saw that Glorfindel was sitting on the edge of the basin nearby, watching him. Rútaura watched back as he groomed the wetness from his paw and face. The Elf sat very still, but his eyes slowly blinked open and shut several times. Rútaura remembered life with his dam and littermates, when the slow blink signaled willingness to cuddle together for naps. After watching a moment longer, he clambered into the Elf's lap and relaxed into a boneless puddle of darkness.

Glorfindel gently stroked his neck and jaw with one finger, and Rútaura began to purr.

* * * * *

Glorfindel carried the tiny kitten across the lawn, through some trees, and up to the great carven door of a vast white stone building. An Elf in the household's blue and gold colors greeted him, saying with a laugh, "Laurefindelë! Who is your friend?"

"The Queen of the Eagles brought him," said Glorfindel, smiling down at the frowsy bundle of jet-black fur he held to his chest. He moved past the doorward, saying as he passed into the hall, "I hope there is fresh cream."

Behind the walls separating it from the streets of Gondolin, the compound of the House of the Golden Flower boasted some very elegant public spaces, a series of comfortable living suites, and some straightforward barracks. All who resided therein were fed, however, through the efforts of one kitchener who ruled over a vast central kitchen and his several assistants. "This is my house," said Glorfindel to the kitten as they strode through chamber after chamber toward the kitchen, "and you are welcome to live here with me."

"Maksar!" called Glorfindel, halting at the doors of the pantry just long enough to listen for signs of life before striding straight toward the vault where dairy products were kept.

"Leave him be," came a voice from behind him. "Maksar is working out a new recipe for fennel, and he dislikes interruptions. What do you want, Laure?"

Glorfindel turned toward Cambanna, the breadmistress who was Maksar's second in command.

"I am looking for a dish of cream for this little fellow. He came here on the back of the Queen of Eagles, a most propitious entrance, and he seems to like me, so I have offered him lodging," Glorfindel said.

"He smells," Cambanna said, frowning.

"He does," Glorfindel agreed. "He smells like the very Enemy himself, and I may have to burn this tunic. But he is young, and the young are always hungry. Just look how thin he is! A bath can wait until he is fed."

"And what happens after you feed and bathe him?" she countered.

"Why, Massa-heri," he smiled as he gave Cambanna her formal title, "he will grow fat on the mice in your granary, once he is big enough to catch them."

"You may be right. He is unlikely to eat the grain, at any rate. Very well," she concluded, "I will find him some cream." She brushed past him, adding over her shoulder "but I am too busy to take charge of his feeding; you will have to arrange that for yourself."

"Of course," he assured her, stopping briefly to pick up a small flat bowl off a low shelf before following her into the dairy.

Cambanna ladled cream from the great stone jar in the corner of the dairy. "Now," she admonished, handing the filled dish to Glorfindel, "take him out of here, and keep him out of the kitchen until he ceases to stink." The kitten raised his head from Glorfindel's tunic front, whiskers twitching. He mewed, the thin sound curiously loud in the thick-walled room. Glorfindel, balancing the kitten with one hand and the full dish with the other, was too busy to see Cambanna smile at the little creature.

* * * * *

Rútaura, held firmly yet gently against the Elf's chest, soon grew confused by the number of rooms they walked through in this great high-ceiled cave. Light levels changed, strange new scents wafted everywhere, including the one coming from the Elf's hand, and there were even more Elves than rooms. He decided to shut his eyes and wait until this ride, something like flying only more thumpy and less sick-making, was over. He eventually felt himself being set down on a soft surface and opened his eyes.

He had a hard time seeing properly. Light streamed in from straight overhead, enhancing the brightness of the colors -- so many colors! -- in this cave. Walls were smooth and covered with soft things that billowed slightly. The cave floor was also smooth, with colorful textures in it, and thick soft things covered part of it. He was standing on one of those thick soft things, and it felt deeply unfamiliar to him. He clawed a bit at it, testing its resilience, and decided it would probably make a very comfortable sleeping surface.

He heard a small noise, like a pebble falling onto a rock. He turned to see the Elf had put something on the hard part of the floor, and he walked over to see what it was. It looked something like a tiny white puddle in a smoothed rock. He sniffed dubiously at it, but then he recognized the smell of the liquid. It smelled something like the creature Sorontar had provided for last night's meal, and something like his mother's milk. He dabbled a paw in it, then licked the paw. Finding it delicious, he set to drinking it all and lost track of what the Elf was doing.

As he drank, the Elf came and spread out another soft thing atop the one he was standing on, then stretched out on the floor near him. The Elf was now white, not blue and yellow, and smelled even sweeter than before. He began to notice the Elf slow blinking at him. The more full he became, the more he wanted to slow blink back at the Elf. As he did so, he began to yawn.

After the third yawn, when Rútaura opened his mouth so widely he thought his face would split, the Elf picked him up gently and placed him on the other soft thing. "Sleep here, my dark star," said the Elf. "And after your nap, it will be time for a bath." Rútaura kneaded the soft surface briefly, then flopped down on it and fell asleep in an instant.

* * * * *

Glorfindel never took his eyes from the kitten, watching it sleep for half a day. Messengers and household members came and went as he watched, and Glorfindel bade them tell him their news quietly, lest the kitten awaken. Thus it was that Glorfindel heard the news the nobles of Gondolin had heard hours before from the beak of Sorontári: how Finwë-Ñolofinwë Noldóran had fallen to the Enemy. Glorfindel gave a series of orders to his household, then settled back to wonder whether and how the tiny kitten fit into the story Sorontári had told the King. He also thought about how he himself, a tactician and warrior, could best contribute to the memorial cairn Turgon was planning to build for his fallen father. And when he got tired of his heavy thoughts, he examined the kitten minutely, noting its dark-on-dark markings and the delicate white streak on each ear.

At length he saw the tiny stirrings that meant the kitten would wake soon, and he waited to see what would happen. The kitten awakened completely but without moving, lifting his eyes to meet Glorfindel's. Its eyes were green as chrysophrase and blinked slowly at him. Glorfindel blinked back, stretching out a finger toward its nose. The kitten rubbed his finger with its jaw and began to purr loudly.

Glorfindel gathered up the kitten in one hand and stood up. He moved into the next room, which was furnished with a large marble washbasin, and shut the door. He opened the valves and warm water began pouring into the basin; he reached for the soapdish, setting it beside the basin. Then he set the kitten gently down on the edge of the basin, wondering whether he was going to have to go into battle or give chase when the kitten figured out what was to happen next.

The kitten sniffed at the basin and tapped at the falling stream of water with one paw. It seemed surprised by the warmth of the water, and it smacked the surface of the water in the basin lightly. Then it stuck its muzzle under the stream.

Glorfindel reminded the kitten, "you heard what the Massa-Heri said. If you are going to live here, you will need to be clean." To his great surprise, the kitten stepped into the basin and stood with its head under the stream of water, whiskers twitching.

This was going to be easier than he thought.

Chapter End Notes

Massa-Heri (Q) -- the Bread Lady, Cambanna's official title in the kitchen hierarchy of Glorfindel's household. Her responsibilities included everything to do with grain supplies and breadmaking, and she assisted Idril in the making of Gondolin's supply of coimas.