After Unnumbered Tears by Cirdan

After Unnumbered Tears

The field was lost. Ecthelion and Glorfindel guarded the flanks to the left and right to ensure that no enemy espied the escape of the Gondolindrim. For the retreat of thousands to go unnoticed by the servants of Morgoth seemed impossible, yet the path had to be trod. They simply had no other choice.

Once in the Echoriath, the weary Gondolindrim at last felt some measure of hope, for the eagles watched over them and home was near. Ecthelion and Glorfindel could not rest though. They were ever worried that the Gondolindrim had been followed.

Ecthelion looked to Glorfindel. Before they had set out for the Fifth Battle, the House of the Golden Flower had been set as guards over the Gates of Gondolin. Glorfindel shook his head. Not now. Too many of his men had been slain.

"Captain Elemmakil." Ecthelion called forth his most trusted man and prior esquire.

"Sir." Elemmakil was no less tired than anyone else, but he still saluted smartly.

"You and your company shall guard the First Gate," Ecthelion said. "Should the enemy come bursting forth from the mountains, I will expect to hear that you held your post and slowed their troop movements to give Gondolin more time to prepare for battle."

Elemmakil dismounted and bowed. "As you command, my liege."

It seemed a cruel fate, for Elemmakil and his company had not yet even returned home after the intense battle that had come to be known as the Dagor Nirnaeth. Yet it was clearly necessary. The young guards that had been stationed at the gate before the Dagor Nirnaeth were boys who had been drilled but never seen actual combat. Already, they quaked at having seen the return of the battle-worn army of Gondolin.

Elemmakil watched as the last of the retreating Gondolindrim disappeared down the Way of Escape towards home. Then he set about assigning shifts to his men.

---

There was a certain amount of relief that could be felt throughout the people when the last of the soldiers of Ecthelion and Glorfindel entered the city. The fear that they would enter with a host of Orcs following them was not uncommon.

The two lords dismounted and were silent for a moment. Then they glanced up into the sky, using a hand to shield their eyes. The last days of the Dagor Nirnaeth had been sunless. Smiling through tears, Ecthelion and Glorfindel clasped one another about the shoulders, each grateful that the other had not been slain.

Elentirmo, Captain of the King's Guards, came forth to greet the two Elf- lords. "Lord Glorfindel, Lord Ecthelion." He bowed to each in turn. Having been with the King during the retreat, Elentirmo was among the first of the soldiers to return to the city and to calm the panic of the people who had stayed in the Hidden Kingdom and believed themselves in immediate danger.

The lords inclined their heads, and Glorfindel said, "We are the last of the soldiers to return home. No enemy followed us."

"And now, if you'll excuse us, Captain, the Lord of the Golden Flower and I are sorely in need of a bath," Ecthelion said. Already, the tears of relief were turning to those of sorrow, and the grief that had been put off in battle now sought to overwhelm.

Elentirmo bowed and left to report to the King. His request to take the rest of the day off was granted without question. Elentirmo then went to the House of Healing once more. He circled about the rooms and scanned the beds. He went afterwards to the House of the Fountain. Unwilling to be alone, many of the people of the Fountain had taken up temporary residence with their lord and sought comfort from one another. Those who were not so gravely injured were also being tended to here rather than in the overflowing House of Healing.

When his search proved still fruitless, Elentirmo at last asked the house- carl, "Did Captain Elemmakil return from the battlefield?"

The house-carl's face became grave but sympathetic. "Nay, my lord. He did not."

Elentirmo thanked the man--or at least he remembers wanting to do so. In later days, he would never quite be sure if he did or not. He walked on unsteady legs back to his house.

Elentirmo had scarcely closed his door when his knees gave out. He collapsed on the floor and no longer fought to control himself. Sobs wracked his body, and tears ran unchecked down his cheeks. He knocked his head to the ground and pounded his fist against the door. He wailed in lamentation and he wept himself to exhaustion, and when, at last, he blacked out, he hoped furtively that he would awaken to find that he had been reunited with his best friend.

---

It was impossible to ask the Lords of Gondolin for records of those who had not returned, and so they were asked to provide names of those who had returned. Even then, the lords were reluctant to do their duties, and the King understood their moods and let them be.

Noting that the younger guards of the Gates of Gondolin had returned to the city, Elentirmo asked Glorfindel for the names of those who had been assigned to replace them. Glorfindel sent Elentirmo to Ecthelion and added that it might not be a bad idea to rotate guards so that those at the gates could come home.

Ecthelion flashed one of his disarming, winning smiles and apologized. "I was weary and thought only of returning home. I don't remember who was in which company, but I do recall which captains were assigned to which gate."

Elentirmo didn't hear anything that was said after "Elemmakil, Captain of the Guards of the First Gate."

After a time, Elentirmo breathed quietly, "Makil..."

And Ecthelion looked then to Elentirmo in shock and some measure of horror.

---

Elemmakil sat as still as the night and listened to the hooting of the owls and the chirping of the crickets. From time to time, mice or moles would rustle the leaves or scuff the dirt. His night sight was not too bad, but his hearing was even better.

Then, in the distance, he heard the light footfalls of a larger creature. From the sounds of it, the creature was two-legged, not four. Another Elf then, Elemmakil concluded. Perhaps it was one of his men seeking him. He moved to intercept the man at a nearby clearing.

They both stepped into the clearing at once, and so Elemmakil beheld Elentirmo bathed in the radiance of the silver light of the moon for the first time since before the Fifth Battle. Elentirmo's eyes shimmered as he gazed at Elemmakil in return.

They moved as if in a trance to cross the clearing and met in the middle. Elentirmo wrapped his arms around Elemmakil, and Elemmakil leaned his forehead against Elentirmo's.

"Tirmo," Elemmakil said in soft voice.

Hearing that familiar voice again, Elentirmo shed two hot tears. "Makil," he whispered, and it seemed that all that needed to be said had been said.