The Illgotten Son by Gadira

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Turmoil First Part: Maeglin


She was driving him insane.

"And then" his voice trembled slightly, "what did you do?"

"Well, of course, I disguised myself as a common soldier, and went to the battle. My father nearly disowned me when he knew!"

"And you killed Orcs?"

"Yes." Aredhel nodded, proudly. "I slew more Orcs than any of my brothers at the Dagor Aglareb. But I suppose it´s hardly fair towards them to boast about it, for, after all, they were too busy giving commands, and they did not know that I competed."

As she said that, she smiled, and her smile made Maeglin choke inside.

"Continue, Mother" he said, clearing his throat. "How did you decide then to go to Gondolin?"

"Oh, I did not decide anything. Suddenly, one day, my brother said he had a surprise for me, and it turned out to be a city. I stayed there with him because of the pains he had taken in the building of it, and because it was clear that it meant everything for him since poor Elenwë died...and also, I have to admit, because I wanted to live in the fairest city in Middle- Earth." Aredhel´s voice became deeper, softer, as she said those words, and her dark eyes wandered as in dreams. "The hidden wonder, she is. I should not have left as I did."

"But then you would never have met Father." Maeglin answered in a sarcastic tone that made his mother give him a queer look. Fortunately for her, Aredhel still managed to recover very quickly.

"And you would never have been born. That´s a good point."

With swift but graceful motions, she began caressing his face with the tips of her long fingers, and he abandoned himself to the touch, leaning against her body, courting the danger.

He was on fire.

"Don´t you want me to continue?" Maeglin heard a faint voice that addressed him in the distance.

"Yes" his voice answered, simply.

"Gondolin has seven names. She is also going to have seven gates, but they were still beginning with the sixth when I left. Someday "she added, kissing his brow " you will be entrusted with the building of the seventh, and it will be the most magnificent of them all. How proud of you I am going to be!

"Proud?"

Maeglin forced himself to break contact with the soft white skin threatening to engulf him, to escape the masses of black shining hair that gave him shudders each time it touched the small of his neck. To make it even worse, now she was looking at him with unbridled affection, and Maeglin´s secret need made him believe that her face was a mirror of his own feelings, although his mind knew it was not so.

Of course it was not.

"You never said before that you were proud of me."

Aredhel laughed.

"And I will not say it yet. You are too young to deserve any praise, my son."

"Father said once he was. " Maeglin retorted. "Do you remember? It was the day I forged my first sword...my first good sword.. He said that my skills were going to surpass those of the Master Dwarves in Nogrod."

"Maybe." Aredhel admitted, "but not those of the Noldor. And that is what I really want for you."

For a moment, it seemed that Maeglin´s countenance was shaded by something akin to frustration upon hearing her words. Pensively, he bit his lip, and sighed.

"If only I could see these famous Noldor crafts "he complained " perhaps I would be able to surpass them to your satisfaction. But, given that I am here, with only Father, his smiths, and the Dwarves of Nogrod to learn from, I think it is only fair that I should be encouraged to do what I can in their way."

Aredhel listened to his rant, staring in surprise. So she had struck a deep chord inside him. He wanted to be renowned. Especially, by her.

But that she knew already.

"Lómion, dear, that I am not proud of you yet does not mean I am never going to be." she explained. "I will see that you get chances to build yourself a name among the Noldor, I promise."

"Thank you, my gracious lady. "Maeglin kissed her hand, grinning in mock respect. "Thank Eru I have the protection of the King´s sister!"

"Don´t be stupid!" she cried, withdrawing her arm with pretended anger. Her son, oddly enough, found that gesture extremely...becoming.

" And now, listen to me! I shall tell you about my family."

"About which one of them? About your brothers, Fingon and Turgon? About my grandfather? Or about your wild cousins, perhaps?" Maeglin grinned again. "I know everything that is to be known about them all. You delight in telling tales as much as I do in listening to them, Mother!"

"Yes. But I never told you about your cousin. I am certain I did not."

"But indeed you did! Turgon´s daughter, the princess of Gondolin. The fair Idril. Fair!" Maeglin shook his head dismissively. "I am sure she is no fairer than you."

Just then, Aredhel had seemed to flinch a little from the intensity in her son´s gaze. Could he have seen her cheeks turning crimson, and not just for vanity´s sake? Could it be that she knew?

However, he guessed it was his own wild fantasy tricking him again.

"Proud as I am of your opinion, I am sorry to say you are no judge for this. You have never seen her, after all." she answered, before her lips curved in a not too serious painful gesture. "Do you think it was easy for me to be at her side in festivals? Everybody was always looking at her!"

"Were you jealous?" Maeglin asked then, with seeming innocence.

"Of course not! Besides, at night, when Vása was down and her golden hair did not gleam anymore, the men preferred to turn their eyes towards me." Aredhel snapped back. "She is too distant" she added sententiously, moments after. "And it´s no wonder, for her father never lets her alone. Dear old overprotective Turgon!

It was too much for Maeglin to see his mother´s sensuous smile in her rose-red full lips. Somewhat abruptly, he turned away from her, with a turmoil inside of his head. He could not stand this anymore!

But she merely shrugged her shoulders.

"Very well, I understood. I won´t bother you with the affairs of women again. Come back!"

No, you do not understand at all, her son thought, but he nevertheless did her bidding.

"Then, are you planning how to get to Gondolin and make me marry Idril?" he said as he returned. Aredhel looked at him, with a strange seriousness at first, and then, to his great confusion, with a twinge of regret.

"No, you cannot." she sighed. "We Noldor do not marry family."

She was driving him insane. Eöl was staying in Nogrod with the Dwarves, so they could spend all day together, but he no longer found any pleasure in it. How could he?

Maeglin knew very well that he was no more than a child for her. Her child. When his father returned, she would give herself to him again, and he would be condemned to watch them together, to hear her moans for nights and nights of endless pain and longing.

Forever.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Since that time, Maeglin´s dreams of escape began to have a different meaning. And, as his hopes changed, so he changed himself, leaving his former open and joyful nature further and further behind. For it was not freedom, or fame, or even the long- cherished light of the Heart of Fire what he sought, but release from his mysterious and unwelcome illness.

(To be continued)


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