The king perishes with his city by elennalore

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The king perishes with his city

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Turgon looked down from his tower; he looked at his city but did not see it burn. No, he saw it like it had been before, when it had only been a vision in his head. He had loved the city already even though it had existed only in his mind.

 

He had wanted to give his people a little glimpse of Valinor. A city made of white stone, its terraces and squares filled with plants and trees and pleasant-sounding fountains, its magnificent arches and towers standing bold. A gem not like anything else, kept in a hidden valley, guarded by the Eagles.

 

He had been content with his life there, although real happiness had evaded him since Valinor. It should have been an impossible plan, to build a city in secret and move his folk there unseen. But nothing was impossible for those who had crossed the ice.

 

His hands rested on the cold marble. Now he saw the flames and destruction. Wormlike beasts breathing fire, shadowy figures amongst the fumes. He saw an arch collapse, and a black hollow emptiness lingered where a building had stood before. Nothing that was alive could survive the fire of the beasts. It killed even stone.

 

He did not cry or wail, for he was already dead, as much as the city was already dead. The fact that he was still breathing was just a little imperfection.

 

“Have you watched enough?” said a voice behind him. It sounded bored, like the owner of the voice would have liked to be anywhere else than in Turgon’s tower – perhaps in the main square with those fiery beings, demolishing the city and obliterating its beauty.

 

“No,” he answered, for it suddenly amused him to stall Morgoth’s lieutenant while he could continue to lament the fall of his city a little bit longer.

 

A clear ‘humph’ was expressed from behind him, but the evil spirit let him watch it for some time before speaking again.

 

“You know that there will be nothing left of this place when we are finished, only ash and broken stone.”

 

“I am aware that the memory of this city will survive in the hearts of every of its citizen,” Turgon replied, rather sharply.

 

“And your dead body will lie in the middle of this devastation until the flames will catch it and it will finally burn to ashes," the being continued.

 

“You are ordering me a funeral pyre, how very thoughtful of you.”

 

“I’m sure you have seen enough,” Morgoth’s lieutenant said, venom in his voice.

 

Slowly, Turgon turned to face him. He was ready to perish with his city. Unarmored. He had guessed that it would come to this.

 

“Do what you came here to do,” he commanded the enemy, and weariness filled him.

 

Morgoth’s lieutenant wore a full body armour and held a spear in his gloved hand. He raised his spear, ready to thrust it forward.

 

Turgon’s sword had been taken away by the Orcs who had broken into the tower. He gasped but did not move. He was, after all, as dead as his city already.

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Chapter End Notes

It's not mentioned in canon that Sauron was in Gondolin, but I hope you allow me to play with the canon a little.