Maeglin's Choice by chrissystriped

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Chapter Two

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„Traitor!”, Ecthelion hissed and Rog stared angrily at him when Maeglin hunched his shoulders.

‘I’d like to see how you’d act if you were treated like he was’, he thought.

“He isn’t”, Turgon said. “He was forced under torture to disclose information and he told us the truth.” In the last years, Rog had sometimes doubted his decision to follow Turgon, but right now he was reminding him why he'd done it in the first place. Turgon didn’t judge prematurely. “Maeglin is my nephew and a Lord of Gondolin and we have to stand together now.”

Ecthelion gave Maeglin a look that could have killed, but he didn’t contradict the king.

“We should have left when Tuor brought Ulmo’s message”, Idril said. “He knew this would happen!”

“But where should we go?”, Glorfindel asked. “Hithlum is in the enemy’s hands, Nargothrond is destroyed. Círdan and Gil-galad are holding the Isle of Balar, but I doubt they’ll be able to supply themselves and us, now that there’s no support from the main land anymore, even if we take stores and livestock with us. And the way is long and dangerous. We are going to be slow, vulnerable. Fifteen years ago it might have been possible, but now...”

“And I say, now it is safer then when Tuor came”, Rog said. “Nargothrond had just fallen then, a dragon was between us and the sea and orc units were everywhere. Morgoth doesn’t know that we are aware of his plans, that’s an advantage. He is going to concentrate on his war preparations. We can move south. Yes, we are going to be slow. We are going to have civilians and children with us. We should take as much stores and livestock as possible. And we’ll have to be wary, but we can take the road to Nargothrond before we come to the wilderness in the south. The dragon is dead, Nargothrond deserted. And even if we encounter orcs, I’m sure we’d outnumber them. Morgoth is not going to send large armies into the wild, when he’s planning an attack on us. We’ll only encounter scouts and scavengers. We’ll be able to deal with that.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about what Morgoth is going to do”, Galdor growled.

Rog sneered at him, the Sinda had never stopped being suspicious of him.

“Peace”, Duilin said and shook his head, “but, Rog, you said it yourself. We wouldn’t be an army on the march. We’d have civilians with us. Can you imagine the chaos if we are attacked and they panic? Do you remember how long it took to get everyone here from Vinyamar. And that was in times of peace.”

“And in secret.”

“We should try for secrecy now, too.”

“Ulmo wanted us to abandon the city”, Tuor said with his deep voice that stood out from that of the elves although he spoke accent free Sindarin. “That’s why he sent me as his messenger. I don’t know if it is already too late or if it is still possible. But I think we should go, although he didn’t tell me, where we should go.”

“Yes, he did”, Idril countered. “‘Remember that the true hope of the Noldor lieth in the West, and cometh from the Sea.’ We should move in the direction of the sea. We should join up with Círdan and Gil-galad.”

“And wait for the Valar to have mercy?” Ecthelion huffed. “They abandoned us. They don’t care what Morgoth is doing here in the east as long as he stays away from Aman!”

“Ulmo wouldn’t have talked like that, if he didn’t think there was hope!”, Idril snapped back. “And he at least never abandoned us. It won’t be an easy road, but I’m ready to go it. How many will die if we stay and fight? Even if we win. It’s going to be a fight for the city. I might not know much about warfare but I don’t see how it could be avoided to involve civilians.”

“But we have a chance to win, to protect Gondolin, now that we know that he’s coming”, Ecthelion said. “We can strengthen the walls, build up our stocks. The city has a lot of fountains. We can withstand a siege.”

“Not forever. And there’s no one who could relieve us”, Rog answered. “All of you, who fought in the Nirnaeth have seen his might...”

“If Maedhros had come as promised, we’d have won”, Glorfindel cut in.

“But we lost", Rog looked sternly at him, "and at that time all the power of the Noldor had come together! We are just one city. We have ten thousand soldiers, maybe we can raise thrice as much if we start immediately to train everyone who is capable of holding a weapon. But do you really want to send new recruits into a battle against Morgoth’s army? And even if a miracle should happen and we win the first time – he’d just come back stronger in a few years!”

Rog fell silent when Turgon stood up.

“I have to think about what you all said. Salgant, I want a list of our stores and livestock. Penlod, analyse last year’s census and tell me how many soldiers we could possibly recruit. I want both your results by tomorrow evening. Go home now, I’ll call you, once I’ve made my decision.”

 

Rog could see that Maeglin had hoped Turgon would make an immediate decision. Every day they waited was one too many. Dawn was already rising when Turgon disbanded he meeting and Rog stepped beside Maeglin.

“Come with me”, he said softly. He didn’t want the boy to be alone with his thoughts.

Maeglin didn’t argue and followed him silently to his home. The lights were already on in the kitchen and Rog persuaded the cook to make them an early breakfast that he carried up to his office.

“Just take some of the papers off a chair”, he told Maeglin and pushed a stack of pages aside to be able to put the plates with scrambled eggs and toast on his desk.

Maeglin carefully lifted a folder with sketches off a chair and sat down, holding the folder awkwardly in his hands.

“You can lay that on the floor.”

“I don’t want to confuse anything”, Maeglin said and Rog laughed.

“Does it look like order here?”

That coaxed a wry smile out of him.

“Who knows?”

“No.” Rog shook his head and dug into his breakfast. “I need order at the forge, everything has to be in its place so I can reach blindly for it, but planning... looks like this.”

“What do you think, he’ll do?” Maeglin poked at his eggs.

“Turgon?” Rog shrugged. “No idea. He loves his city and if it weren’t Morgoth, I’d agree with Ecthelion. We can hold out a while and harrass the attackers until they give up. But Morgoth won’t give up. He doesn’t care how many soldiers are going to die in this. He has enough.”

He saw Maeglin tremble and berated himself for his thoughtlessness.

“He won’t get you”, he said firmly. “I promise. I won’t let it happen.”

“I’m afraid he’ll find out that I talked”, Maeglin whispered. “He... he’s going to... he threatened to blind me, if I betray him!”

“He won’t get you”, Rog repeated. “I escaped and I won’t go back – and neither will you.”

Maeglin looked at him with dark, fearful eyes. “What are you going to do?”

Rog slowly shrugged. In a fight? Force his opponent to kill him.

“If Turgon decides to stay... I swore him fealty in return for him doing his best to protect me and mine. But if he decides to stay, it’s not his best, I think.” These thoughts just started to take form in his mind. “The Noldor undoubtedly would see that differently, but I’m Avar and if we think our leader is wrong, we go our own way.” He shook his head. “Let’s see what Turgon decides before thinking about our reaction.”

Maeglin looked tired and Rog took the still half-full plate from his hand.

“You should lie down. How long since you slept last? I’ll take you home.”

“No!” Maeglin clung to his arm. “Please, don’t leave me alone! I can’t sleep! Every time I close my eyes, I’m there again.”

“Then sleep here." Rog gently laid his hand on his head. "I can give you something that keeps the memories away.”

Maeglin leaned into his hand and Rog could see how much he yearned for this gentleness. He bowed forward and kissed his forehead.

“Come, little one, I’ll tuck you in.”

He didn’t have children and he’d never have them, never felt like he wanted any. Aredhel had married his kinsman and although the possibility had never been there, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering how it would have been, if Maeglin had been his son.

“Is it going to make me dream?”, Maeglin asked warily and Rog shook his head.

“It isn’t hallucinogenic, but it’s going to help you relax and feel safe. For me it feels like my mind is wrapped in a warm blanket, far from any danger.”

“That sounds nice.”

Maeglin stood up and let Rog lead him to a guest room.

“Get comfortable. I’ll be back in a minute. If you need something, use the bell. You don’t have to feel ashamed. My whole household is made up of people who endured Angband. They know what you went through – what you are going through now.”

Maeglin let go of him hesitantly and Rog hurried to his own bed room to fetch the bottle with the dark syrupy liquid. He rarely used it, his states of anxiety had become rare – but it calmed him to have it nearby.

Maeglin already lay in bed, trembling with tenseness, when he came back. His face was blank and Rog realised he was hiding his anxiety that way. He wondered now how often people thought him unapproachable, because he felt insecure and fearful and hiding it behind an intense stare and tight lips. Rog let the syrup run on a spoon and offered it to Maeglin.

“You don’t have to, but I think a few hours’ sleep will do you some good.”

Maeglin nodded. “I want it. I haven’t slept well for weeks.”

He grimaced when he swallowed. The herbs were sweetened with honey, but they still tasted acrid.

“Do you want me to leave or stay until you sleep?”, Rog asked.

“Stay, if... if you have nothing better to do.”

“There is nothing ‘better’ than helping someone who is in pain.”

“Rog?” Maeglin blushed.

“Hm?”

“Would you stroke my hair.”

“Of course.”

Rog sat down beside him and gently caressed his head. He wondered how long Maeglin hadn’t had anyone who would give him something like that. Since his mother had died? He must have been so lonely.

“Thank you”, Maeglin’s eyes were already sleepy. “I... I don’t know what I expected when I came to you this night, but it wasn’t this and I’m glad.”

Rog smiled at him. “I’m glad that you don’t regret it. There’s always a light in the dark, Maeglin, sometimes it’s just hard to see.”

“Lómion”, Maeglin mumbled. “Please, call me Lómion.”

Rog kissed his forehead.

“Sleep well, Lómion.”

He remained at his side until he was sure that he was sleeping deeply, then he stood up silently and went for his own bed. He hoped, Turgon would make the right decision. He didn’t want to be forced to make a hard choice.