8 | Darkness At Our Doors

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"Glory dwelt in that city of Gondolin of the Seven Names, and its ruin was the most dread of all the sacks of cities upon the face of Earth."
― J.R.R. Tolkien from The Fall of Gondolin 

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Location: Ondolindë, North Beleriand, Middle Earth

Time: 510 F.A

Today had been the festival of the Gates of Summer, and many were preparing for the sunrise that was to come. [1]

She had been working with Ingolmo all night, preparing for the festival along with the work Idril and Tuor put her to with their project. As she had been writing down half of the notes, she noticed a light beginning to appear from the window of her study.

Placing her quill down, she massaged her hands before standing to head to look. Had it been sunrise already? She could have sworn it would not be for another few hours until she knew there were people already lined outside the Great Market. Most of the house of the Golden Flower would be around here, beginning to fill the streets as they watched the first speck of light in the East.

But when she gazed up to the sky, Elemmírë did not see the familiar speck of oranges and yellows. Instead: the sky began to bleed.

Her blood grew cold, as she called out to the only person in the room, "Ingolmo..."

Hearing the shuffling and the movement of wooden chairs, the scribe headed to stand next to her – his eyes looking out into not of the East...but in the Northern direction. "Elemmírë...the sky." His breath hitched, "It shouldn't be this red."

She whispered, "No, it shouldn't."

A red sky meant something more to them. Fire and blood. Morgoth's armies have arrived, and it won't be for long until they will arrive in the city.

Elemmírë acted swiftly, informing Ingolmo to prepare to take the most important notes. Those of the maps of Beleriand as well as the scrolls of the important history of Ondolindë. If they were to not survive this, at least information of their people will be passed down and known to those in Middle Earth and of Valinor.

Soon, noises and cries were heard and they both knew that the city had seen the red sky and already were panicking. She headed to the main atrium, bumping into her brother at the right moment as well as their governor. He, like herself, was no prepared and had not worn any armour yet.

Just as they were about to speak, Hestondur answered the door and allowed one of Turgon's guards to enter. The guard bowed to them and spoke, "Lady Elemmírë, Lord Laurefindelë. King has summoned all the head of the Gondothlim to meet at the palace."

Her brother bowed, "Thank you." He added, "We will come as soon as possible."

Whilst the guard then marched off, presumably back to the palace, Hestondur had gone to prepare the households – leaving only her, Glorfindel and Ingolmo standing in the middle of the atrium.

Elemmírë quickly flickered to Glorfindel and said, "Háno... He's here." She said in a hurried voice, "Ingaran Turukáno won't allow it. We have to make sure the children make it to the pass."

Her brother's eyes never left her's, a look of recognition before he sucked in a breath. Glorfindel had only known of the plan a month ago when he had stumbled upon Ingolmo and her discussing the plans. He thought at first that the scribe had been secretly courting her, to which angered Elemmírë and terrified Ingolmo.

They had no choice but to reveal the truth. About everything. Of Maeglin's odd behaviour, of Idril's vision and her request of Tuor to build the hidden pass. Glorfindel, with his loyalty mostly to the people, took some time to persuade. He only agreed if Ecthelion would know, and that his household would have the opportunity to escape as well.

She, along with Idril, agreed.

But it would so seem Glorfindel wanted to know everything despite how urgent they should be acting now. "Who knows of this?" He asked, looking over to Ingolmo.

"Ingolmo and Hestondur." She answered, "Aranel Itarillë and Lord Tuor will already be at the palace with Eärendil, but we must begin the plan we already spoke of alright?"

The question was solely towards their scribe, who quickly nodded and answered: "Of course, Lady Elemmírë. As well of Lord Ecthelion's house?"

"Yes." She firmly spoke, "The House of the Mole cannot be trusted."

There was a dark look gracing over her brother's face as he said lowly, "Nésa, if you are correct. We have a traitor in our ranks."

She knew that look. Glorfindel wanted to confront Maeglin now or never he could anything. But they both knew that would be a risk. Especially when Maeglin has his finger wrapped around Turgon's paranoid mind.

Elemmírë reminded him, "And yet we have no proof other than Itarillë's word and mine." She inhaled, "We will just have to do as much as we can."

With another breath, Glorfindel nodded in defeat. They will just have to do what they can and save as much of their people. Right now, they were now going against their king's wishes. Against the crown they protected. Especially her, the advisor of a king.

But she would choose to protect people than to protect her pride.

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Never had the council been so anarchic.

Everyone was arguing, lords shouting from across the room whilst the loremasters and governors from each house quarrelled over the evacuations and the importance of their house. She saw Tuor trying to ease everybody, standing next to the king whilst several elves battered on. She spotted several of her senior loremasters, keeping quiet or keeping to themselves. Some of the ladies were standing impatiently for their husbands to finally get their head of their behinds.

If the whole room was bad enough, Elemmírë was having the worst headache in the world. Perhaps it was why Turgon looked as if he were about to burst in annoyance at everyone until he slammed his staff down, the metal echoing all over the room.

Then, she saw the familiar blonde Edain step forward and turned to the king. "My lords! My king. I must implore you, allow the women and children to leave the city," He proclaimed.

There were several murmurs before the king held his hand up.

Her brother, Glorfindel, was the one who spoke next confidently, "I for one agree with Lord Tuor. They are our priority, and we will be able to defend the city with fewer casualties."

"And where will they leave?" Lord Penlod questioned him.

Lord Rog, who stood next to Lord Duilin, answered: "The Great Gate and then through the hidden way."

"It will be a risk. We had spies already discover the Orfalch Echor," Ecthelion pointed out.

Lord Galdor loudly spoke, "It'll be a better option than to do nothing!" He scoffed, "We bear no allies around us, not after the previous battle."

The room rose to high levels of noises once more, and Elemmírë refrained to react in pain for the voices in her head. It didn't help when she could sense fear in all of them, causing her skin to prickle and grow cold.

People were truly afraid now, and people were more focused on letting their pride get to them.

Out of nowhere, a voice she was afraid to hear, cried out: "My lords!" The room quietened before Maeglin, "Perhaps you may hear my words. If I may speak, Ingaran."

Turgon stared at his nephew before stiffly nodding back to him.

Maeglin stepped into the middle of the room, gesturing his hand out to the rest of them as he began: "Why do we quarrel when we are not looking at the obvious thing in front of us. Ondolindë has stood here for centuries, and we barred no enemies here. We have gone through two wars as well as the fall of not only Nargothrond but of Dorthonion and Hithlum." He faced Turgon and stated: "My king, you underestimate the strength of the city. The city which you built, what the lord of the Waters led you to build."

Elemmírë held her breath, carefully bringing her hand next to Glorfindel's. Noticing the seek for comfort, he held her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Get straight to point, Lord Maeglin," Lord Egalmoth glared. He was the only few who had no fear in sharing his dislike to Maeglin. He, Lord Rog, and Lord Galdor were among those who did.

As for her brothers, both Glorfindel and Ecthelion chose to hide their distrust and kept themselves neutral. Even if they both knew of Maeglin's attitude and worrying plans.

King Turgon warned the lord with a low tone, "Hold your tongue, Lord Egalmoth."

"And I hold no love of such praising at this time." Lord Egalmoth was practically going to unsheathe his sword, hadn't the elf next to him place a hand onto his arm. "This is a war council, Lord Maeglin."

Maeglin ignored Egalmoth's threat, instead, spoke to Turgon in a bold voice: "Protect your city, my king. Show him that he is no match of the Gondothlim."

Turgon was silent for a moment, pursing his lips as she tried to connect to his mind, 'My king, please you must consider—'

Suddenly, Turgon's voice grew cold as he interrupted, 'You learn your place, Lady Elemmírë. I am your king. And I have heard enough from Lord Maeglin.' He rose his chin up and declared to them: "Deploy the Gondothlim. We will prepare for the battle ahead and keep the women and children safe in the square where they will be able to access the Great Gate when there is access."

Nobody said anything, whilst all the Lords bowed and nodded their heads and began filing out of the room. Whilst Maeglin thanked Turgon, he hurried soon with his house – with Salgant closely trailing behind him.

She frowned, suspicious at their actions. What in Arda were they going to plan? Did Maeglin seek to kill them all? That would be practically suicide...

Once she found him, she apologized through their minds, 'I'm sorry Tuor, I thought I could persuade him.'

Tuor, who stood on the other side of the great room, gave her an assuring nod. 'I know you did your best.' He continued, 'We must continue our plan then.'

With their silent agreement, she blinked away and began to follow Glorfindel and Ecthelion out of the great hall – heading to prepare for the upcoming bloodbath Maeglin had sent them to.

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She found herself at the King's Square when Ingolmo galloped down from the West side of the city, breathless as he called to her. "Elemmírë."

Worried, she hurried up to the scribe and questioned quietly, "Are all the women and children of our house gone through?"

"Yes." Ingolmo nodded, "I've had Tirdo continue moving the House of the Fountain there."

Some relief from her chest formed as she replied, "Good." Glancing to her left, she found Glorfindel and Ecthelion discussing with Lord Duilin and Lord Rog. "Háno, Ecthelion."

As she waited for the four to finish speaking, Glorfindel and Ecthelion strode to her. Elemmírë could not help now to meet them halfway, tossing her arms over both of their shoulders and hugged them both. Their arms caught her in time, embracing her tightly as if this was the last time.

She didn't want to seem pessimistic, but Elemmírë was going to make the most of their time.

As she brought herself down, the two looked down at her. Glorfindel spoke strictly, "You will stay with Ingolmo alright?" His voice struggled to remain firm as the emotions began to filter through. "I want you to be with me, but I know you are better safe with him, Tyelperinquar, Voronwë, the Aranel and Tuor."

Ecthelion nodded in agreement, "Aye. But we have armies to lead."

Taking a shuddered breath, Elemmírë grasped both of their hands and said, "I love you, both." She pleaded, "Please stay alive. Both of you."

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Whilst Glorfindel and her house would be stationed in the Great Market, Ecthelion and his house would be at the Northern Gate with Egalmoth. Tuor, despite wanting to aid Idril and Voronwë down at their home, was stationed in the King's Square along with Turgon's house. She wasn't sure where Celebrimbor had been, assuming he had heard of the news and already aiding some of the House of Rog or Duilin to head down to Idril's secret pass.

She and Ingolmo raced down to south of the city from the square heading to Idril's, her eyes constantly looking back north at the sky. The air around her seemed to grow warmer, knowing exactly what creatures were arriving at the walls. Elemmírë had only seen drawings of such creatures, but the prospects of seeing a dragon and balrog in real life were making her heart hitch.

The roads were filled with people running, soldiers marching and barricading.

As she was not looking forward, she felt herself thrown out into the air. The horse screamed in agony, mixed with her groans as her body impacted the hard stony ground. The world around her shook, her sight blurry as she heard a voice scream into her ears.

Elemmírë rolled onto her knees, flinging her head up and stared out in horror.

Maeglin had his hand around Ingolmo's neck, a dagger close to his skin. The scribe's voice was echoing in her ears until he screamed.

She shrieked out, "Ingolmo!"

Her heart plummeted as she saw the blood spurt out. And in the next few seconds, Ingolmo of the House of the Golden Flower's body crumpled onto the ground – dead.

In just several moments, her friend was gone: his life taken by the very elf that had turned his heart away from their people. She could sense her anger growing, as she stood up and snarled at him. But as she was about to unsheathe her swords, two pairs of hands grabbed her from behind and threw her back.

Maeglin strode up to her, as she squirmed and wracked out of their hold. But Maeglin's followers were strong, binding her between them as Maeglin looked down at her with a smirk.

"You thought you would easily sway Turgon, did you Elemmírë?" He said in maniac eyes.

Elemmírë didn't care as her tears spilt as she roared, "Let go of me Maeglin!"

As was expected, Maeglin narrowed his eyes back and responded, "I will not have my plans tarnished by you, despite what Morgoth deems you so important."

"What shall we do with her?" Her spine grew rigid as she heard the familiar voice.

Striding from the side of Maeglin, the Lord of the Harp looked at Maeglin.

Maeglin stared at her before ordering: "Bind her and take her to yours Salgant." He spoke, "Make sure she doesn't inform them of the tunnel. She has a high price to the Dark Lord. An exceedingly high price for such a pathetic elf."

Dark Lord? What did Morgoth want her?

As her entire body was bound, all she felt was numbness through her muscles and heart – her eyes never leaving the dead corpse of her friend on the street.

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[1] - Festival of the Gates of Summer: A great festival was held in Gondolin when the Gondolindrim sang as the Sun rose.

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A/N: Noooo Ingolmo! Rip the most unproblematic character in the entire series (which is surprisingly not a lot considering how a lot of my characters have a lot on their plate). 

But yeah...this chapter and onwards are not going to be kind to our characters. And Elemmire is going to experience the beginning of her painful life, which we know ain't going to end happily for her as well.

I'm going to post this plus the next one (as usual) but once this story is done I'm thinking of pausing the series to focus on other works. Hopefully, book 3 will be out later this year but I've got so much to get through it's been difficult to balance schedules.

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Edited: 04/06/2022