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tolkien_slashy_swapsTitle: Tale of the Ancient Mariner
Chapter: One
Author: Phyncke
Email: jhfink@sbcglobal.net
Rating: PG - NC17
Pairing: Voronwë/Glorfindel, Idril/Tuor
Warnings:Character death
Beta:khylea (and errors are mine)
For Request:Voronwë/Glorfindel in Ardor in August 2008
Disclaimer:I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate, and I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours I hope.
Summary: The tale of Voronwë the mariner and his odyssey as he charts his course through the First Age from Nevrast, through the building of Gondolin and beyond. He finds his one great love and is a part of the events of that age.
Written for: Jaiden
Chapter summary: Doubts, how Gondolin was built and a party arrives to the hidden city unexpectedly.
Chapter One
Glorfindel was summoned from across Gondolin. A messenger from the Lord of the Fountain arrived at the training grounds to deliver a note right in the middle of sparring sessions for the training of young soldiers.
"Hold, please! Hold your swords!"
The warrior stepped away from his partner at the shout from the courier, took the offered missive and quickly scanned it. He revealed nothing of its contents in his expression but made his apologies, traversing the dirt arena to where his shirt and pack lay discarded earlier. No time to bathe, he would go immediately to the guard tower to assist Ecthelion.
It was no small feat to lead someone into the hidden city. Voronwë the mariner knew this, and when he saw the somewhat astonished look on the face of Lord Ecthelion, he wondered what had brought them to this pass. Tuor seemed calm when they were led from the mountain tunnel as prisoners but for him, this was like not being recognized by his own mother. These were the people he had lived with, built with and would have died for. He had spent so many years in Gondolin and now it had come to this. He doubted every impulse that had led him to bring the mortal through to the Hidden Realm.
Their feet echoed on the stone pathway and they proceeded unobserved by the less travelled way. This was by design and so that no one would see just yet. No gossip would filter into the city. It was all to be handled discreetly for now, until the trespassers had been properly questioned; their purpose determined. Tuor was flanked by two guards of Ecthelion's house while Voronwë was escorted by only one, who looked at him sidelong all during the long walk to the guard tower. This was making him nervous, very anxious indeed. He dared not speak a word and tried to trod softly.
/---/
Many years earlier, in Nevrast...
"Mother, why do we not go to Hithlum to join with the High King and the rest of the House of Fingolfin?"
"We are loyal to Lord Turgon and we follow his path. We have discussed this before."
Aerlindë was patient with Voronwë, ever explaining, ever mindful that he understand what was happening around him in elvendom and the greater world. She was sure he would play a part in events of significance though she did not know how. She did not have the power to read the future or tell his fate. It was something a mother simply knew about her child.
She, herself, though related to the Noldor royal lineage through her marriage to Aranwë, kept out of the political affairs. She was loyal, yes, but not of influence to others and kept to her own and her small family. This had not stopped events from finding her, and when she had met her husband, she had fallen in love and become part of the Noldor clan. They were blessed with the birth of their son in Nevrast but shortly after her very own love fell to the creatures of the Dark Lord who were ever present in this Middle Earth. This left her and Voronwë here alone. She felt much in kinship with Turgon, son of Fingolfin. He too knew what it was to lose someone dear to him. He had lost his own wife on the dread Helcaraxë and was raising his child alone. Voronwë could no longer be called a child and would cry outrage should she dare it. Aerlindë smiled with these thoughts. Her son was indeed past his majority and coming into his own.
This evening they were finishing dinner and Voronwë asked, as was his nightly habit when the season permitted.
"Do you mind if I go to the beach for a swim?"
"I will clean up. You go while the sun lasts." She replied as she stood to take the dishes.
Voronwë nodded and got up from the table, pushing back his chair to carry the serving dishes to the kitchen.
"Thank you, mama. I will come back soon. It is a perfect night for it."
Tall of limb and long of stride, the young elf ambled out of the dwelling and headed down the seaside path toward the beach front. They lived west of Vinyamar, along the coast lands, within easy reach of Turgon's seat of power but not too easy as his mother liked to say. He drew in a breath and took the night sea air full into his lungs, fresh, moist and clean. Once he reached the beach, he stripped off his clothes, leaving them in a pile, to walk straight into the surf without pause as he did every night. The coldness of the ocean embraced him and without gasping he dove straight in, submerging to come up into a strong stroke heading due west out to sea. He was swimming into the setting sun, though it hung just above the horizon line.
Most nights he began with counting in his head--one, two, three--and so on--until he lost the numbers and his thoughts began to wander a path that he did not control: who he saw at market that day, when next he would be summoned to the capital for instruction as a warrior, and so on. It was during these nightly sojourns that he worked out his problems and cares and found solutions that might not normally occur to him. The exertion seemed to free up his mind, or he fancied Ulmo played a role providing guidance. It was Valar intervention.
Tonight his arms and legs moved in perfect rhythm, a tempo that no one had ever taught him but he had always known. Voronwë was very much of the sea, always thought of it as his friend, admiring the vastness of Arda's oceans. His body adjusted to the temperature and he did not feel at all cold as he cut through the waves. He felt as though he could swim all the way West if he wanted to. What a fanciful thought. He would have laughed at the idea but did not want to swallow saltwater.
/---/
Vinyamar was situated eastward in the mountains that looked down to the sea and though beautiful in its own right, it was only ever to be a temporary home for Turgon and his people. A place to rest, gather strength. Fingolfin's son had been visited by a dream from Ulmo which told him to found a city in secret, to make his people safe. A few select elves were privy to this information and to the formulation of a plan to build the shining star of Gondolin nestled deep within the Encircling Mountains, upon the plain of Tumladen.
"Ecthelion, we are going to need people to do this. Able bodied elves to lift, carry and do back breaking labor up there. How is this even possible?"
Glorfindel raised his voice now, to stress his point. This was a constant source of private debate between Ecthelion and his friend, who always had a mind toward the practicalities.
"Turgon is too much of a visionary and is not thinking of how it will be to implement this plan..."
"We will find a way, my friend. There is stone in those mountains to build with and we will find a way."
Ecthelion cut into his potato, trying to reassure Glorfindel that indeed, a large and beautiful city could be built in secret high up in the mountains without anyone knowing about it. He had his own doubts but he kept those to himself.
"You know Turgon will need us to lead this effort, hmm?"
He pushed the greens around on his plate.
"Aye, of course. I do not doubt that."
Glorfindel sat back and lifted his wine glass, thinking and pondering. He liked Vinyamar. It was nicely situated with access to the sea and inland regions. Why not stay here? Why not make this their home?
"Ecthelion, why can we not remain in Nevrast?"
The dark haired warrior laid down his utensils and picked up his own wine glass. He would finish his meal in a moment. Glorfindel did not seem inclined to eat for now.
"Well, I do not believe that is Ulmo's plan and Turgon has a mind to safety for us all. He would like to find a place where we are hidden away from the world and the troubles of this age. It will be secret and none of the strife and wars will touch us there."
"And we will not be able to help. We will neither trade nor participate in ANY of this region's affairs...we will be isolated in our hidden kingdom."
The golden warrior frowned into his glass. Gregarious by nature, the idea of being shut away in a mountain pass did not please him that much.
"Glorfindel, " Ecthelion set his glass down. "You do not have to go. You may go join Fingolfin, or with Finrod or others if this disturbs you so."
"No, no...I am just speaking to you. You are my friend, Ecthelion. I will of course keep my path with Turgon's. I am loyal to him. But you alone will know my doubts and keep them in confidence."
Ecthelion nodded and picked up his silver.
"Of course, as always. Now eat your dinner. It will get cold."
/---/
Turgon, of course, had a plan. Once he found the vale of Tumladen, he worked ceaselessly on the designs for a city that would be like a jewel set on that field of green, a city of towers, with streets lined with gems, to rival the cities of Valinor. He would call it Gondolin. >
And so his captains assisted him as he knew they would. Turgon shared with them his plan for the architecture of Ondolinde and they set about pulling together the elves that would be necessary to build such a city. All throughout Nevrast they travelled, from house to house, with messages for able-bodied elves to report to Vinyamar.
Voronwë was one such elf. And as always, he went when summoned.
/---/
Glorfindel surveyed the gathering of male elves as Turgon spoke to them. This was necessary. They needed to know why they were being sent into the mountains to build, what the true purpose was. No one was being conscripted thus they were being asked to volunteer. As Turgon explained Ulmo's visitation and the need for the city, Glorfindel paced, and looked from face to face. This whole idea made him understandably nervous and so he walked back and forth, stopping to look at their faces now and again. He wanted to judge reactions, eliminate anyone who he thought would not work hard or who might have the wrong attitude. His glance stopped on someone in the front row, dark of hair and with eyes such a turbulent green they reminded one of the ocean waves.
"Who is that?"
"Hmm?" Ecthelion whispered back.
"Second from the left in the first row." Glorfindel said softly.
"That is Voronwë. A good lad by all accounts, born here."
Glorfindel nodded and casually observed the elf who was paying rapt attention to Turgon's every word. Steadfast. Too young to know that yet.
Voronwë felt a jumble of emotions as he stood there listening to Lord Turgon speak. He knew that his fate was somehow caught up in all this as he got a chill at the back of his neck during the whole speech, an eerie feeling. He also knew he was being watched and assessed. That made him uncomfortable. He shifted on his feet and tried to focus on what was being said, though he did chance a look at those who were beside the future King of Gondolin.
He knew them all by name but not personally though he could tell that Lord Glorfindel was observing him closely. Though to what purpose he could not tell. He dared not look at the golden haired captain of the Noldor and stood straight and looking to the front. He was nervous under all this scrutiny. Voronwë was an adult but this was all a bit much for him to take. He still felt young and he was in fact younger than those assembled in the hall. Most of these elves had been born in Valinor. He stood out as an elf born in Nevrast.
Turgon finished speaking and took questions from the audience. How long would it take to build such a city? How many elves would go? And so forth. There was much they did not know so the Noldor prince answered as best he could. He apologized for the lack of information but asked them for their continued loyalty. It was a lot to expect, he knew, but it was the best he could do.
The group dispersed, and the elves milled around to speak with each other and Turgon's soldiers to gain information. Plans would be made to begin the work in secret and send advance parties to the Encircling Mountains and so look for materials to build the city.
Voronwë stood by himself in thought, mulling over the fact that they would be migrating inland and that he would have to part from the sea. He supposed there was nothing for it but there was a frown on his face nonetheless.
"You looked troubled, young Voronwë. Is there a question I can answer that might ease your worry?"
Glorfindel smiled as he approached the younger elf, speaking loud enough to be heard above the background noise, the buzz of conversation filling the hall.
"No question my lord..."
"Glorfindel, I am Glorfindel."
Voronwë nodded and then did ask.
"One cannot hope that there is an inland sea in those mountains?"
"Nay, my friend, we will have no access to Arda's oceans from Tumladen, I am afraid. This is a drawback and an irony, don't you think, since Ulmo is the source of all of this?"
"Yes, my lord."
"You may call me Glorfindel, if you will. I do not stand on titles."
"Yes, Lord Glorfindel."
"Just Glorfindel."
"Glorfindel."
"Very good."
Glorfindel was charmed by this serious young elf and would make sure that he was part of HIS party for the excavation and building of the site. He had a sense that this was an earnest person and someone who would work hard and do his best.
Voronwë smiled at the older elf and met an answering grin.
"When do we start?"
/---/
The building of Gondolin...
As with all construction on such a scale, it was necessary to divide the labor and so be efficient in action and resources. In this way they did not squander the people or their efforts. They travelled to Gondolin, as they were now calling it, in organized parties, each group led by a captain of Prince Turgon, son of Fingolfin. It was hoped that by not going as a large host, they would escape notice.
Ecthelion's party was responsible for the acquisition of building materials, specifically lumber from the mountain forests and quarried rock that would be the used to build the city. The wood would be made into scaffolding used to erect the structures and roll the large building blocks. White stone and marble which would be the streets and towers that would make up Ondolinde. They searched out these naturally found items and mined for them in the Encircling Mountains.
Galdor and Enerdhil's factions prepared the building elements to the precise specifications of the plan set out by Turgon. They cut and crafted the stone and marble, along with any other natural material that might be needed. The mixed mortar, lay bricks and what they did not know how to make, they quickly figured out. These elves worked in an encampment on the edge of the vale with large tents and a great deal of equipment to carry out their work. Chisels, hammers, axes and the like. Once materials were ready, they were transported immediately over to the building site to be incorporated into the city. Penlodh's people were responsible for transporting the raw materials to the artisan's camp and finished elements to the city's site and did so on a daily basis. Salgant's elves supplied the entire operation with food and water preparing each meal for all workers. Their goal was to provide hearty repast and to maintain a pristine site for this purpose.
In this manner each of Turgon's captains supervised a key task or element in the construction of this great city, all working together, organized in a concerted effort. They did so in secret, they did so for years.
Glorfindel was in charge of the construction of the city, implementing the design that Turgon had drawn from his imagination, setting it down to parchment in Vinyamar. Before they had left Nevrast, he had questioned the Noldor ruler exhaustively, pulling from him every vision and idea that he had for his schematic of the city. He did not want to fail at this and so he spent many a night with Turgon deep in discussion so he would get this right. He felt no small amount of pressure. The consequences of doing this wrong were just too horrible to imagine. Glorfindel tried to dispel such thoughts from his mind.
The construction of Gondolin followed an annual pattern as building was not possible during the winter months. They worked from Spring's thaw through the summer until the end of Fall and then repaired back to Nevrast for the Winter months. Again, always travelling in smaller groups so as not to draw attention to themselves. Stealth was essential so that Gondolin remained a secret to the rest of elvendom and the spies of Morgoth.
Voronwë had to admit that he enjoyed the beauty of the mountains and did so to Glorfindel one night as they lay looking up at the stars. The night was cool and crisp all around them and Varda's stars appeared closer than anywhere else in Middle Earth.
"Look how bright the stars are, Glorfindel. How vast is the night sky and limitless."
"Aye, tis beautiful, Voronwë. You are right about that."
"It is far vaster than the oceans, eh?"
"Two entirely different things altogether, I would imagine."
"Aye."
Glorfindel turned to his side and looked at Voronwë's profile as he looked up at the stars. It was a strong face, full of character and sense.
"We worked hard today. Are you tired?"
"Not so much, no. I am strangely awake now. Usually I would be asleep by now."
And this was true. Their habit was to fall into an exhausted sleep under the stars most nights right after a large dinner cooked on an open fire but tonight they lay awake for some reason.
"Yes, you would. I find you snore very loud, you know and you are usually asleep well before me."
"Snore loudly?!"
Voronwë feigned outrage turning to face Glorfindel and his outlandish suggestion. He knew the older elf was teasing him but looked at him sternly, frowning to show his displeasure. Glorfindel's very blue eyes shone with mirth and the captain looked pleased to have gotten such a reaction.
"I will have you know I do not snore. I breathe elegantly in my sleep."
"You snore as loud as any pig I have heard, Voronwë. I will swear an oath on it."
"I will get you for that, Glorfindel. I suggest you take it back."
"Oh do you? And if I don't?" His voice was laced with amusement.
Without answering, Voronwë launched and tried to pin the elder elf under his lesser weight. Glorfindel laughed then, giving way as they wrestled. He let his friend vanquish him easily and pleaded,
"Mercy, I declare, mercy!"
"You did not even try, Glorfindel. You let me win." Voronwë laughed as they looked at each other.
"I think I am at your mercy, my friend." Glorfindel said cryptically.
"I will not press my advantage then," Voronwë said from his position atop the other elf. He was beginning to feel a strange emotion between them and if he had known more about such things, he would have known that it was budding attraction and affection but now it only caused confusion in his mind.
Glorfindel nodded, though his eyes reflected a darker hue than moments before.
"You are good not to. I do not think I could show such restraint. Shall we sleep now? Else tomorrow we will pay."
Voronwë pretended to snore loudly as had been Glorfindel's contention.
"Get off me, pig."
The captain bucked his hips sending a thrill of awareness through them which they both ignored. The younger elf retreated to his own bedroll set up just next to his friend's. Voronwë did not know what he was feeling but he did enjoy the time he spent with Glorfindel very much. He lay down atop his blankets and sighed.
"Good night, Voronwë. I will wake you in the morning."
No easy task, he thought, as Voronwë did like to lie in. Glorfindel smiled up at the stars at the effort it would take to get him up.
"Good night, Glorfindel."
To be continued.
Aerlindë=sea chant or song of the sea
Voronwë=steadfast
Bronwë=Sindarin form of Voronwë
Nan-tathren=valley of willows
Laurëa Melda=Golden Beloved
Ondolindë: The Rock of the Music of the Water
Chapter: One
Author: Phyncke
Email: jhfink@sbcglobal.net
Rating: PG - NC17
Pairing: Voronwë/Glorfindel, Idril/Tuor
Warnings:Character death
Beta:khylea (and errors are mine)
For Request:Voronwë/Glorfindel in Ardor in August 2008
Disclaimer:I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate, and I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours I hope.
Summary: The tale of Voronwë the mariner and his odyssey as he charts his course through the First Age from Nevrast, through the building of Gondolin and beyond. He finds his one great love and is a part of the events of that age.
Written for: Jaiden
Chapter summary: Doubts, how Gondolin was built and a party arrives to the hidden city unexpectedly.
Chapter One
Glorfindel was summoned from across Gondolin. A messenger from the Lord of the Fountain arrived at the training grounds to deliver a note right in the middle of sparring sessions for the training of young soldiers.
"Hold, please! Hold your swords!"
The warrior stepped away from his partner at the shout from the courier, took the offered missive and quickly scanned it. He revealed nothing of its contents in his expression but made his apologies, traversing the dirt arena to where his shirt and pack lay discarded earlier. No time to bathe, he would go immediately to the guard tower to assist Ecthelion.
It was no small feat to lead someone into the hidden city. Voronwë the mariner knew this, and when he saw the somewhat astonished look on the face of Lord Ecthelion, he wondered what had brought them to this pass. Tuor seemed calm when they were led from the mountain tunnel as prisoners but for him, this was like not being recognized by his own mother. These were the people he had lived with, built with and would have died for. He had spent so many years in Gondolin and now it had come to this. He doubted every impulse that had led him to bring the mortal through to the Hidden Realm.
Their feet echoed on the stone pathway and they proceeded unobserved by the less travelled way. This was by design and so that no one would see just yet. No gossip would filter into the city. It was all to be handled discreetly for now, until the trespassers had been properly questioned; their purpose determined. Tuor was flanked by two guards of Ecthelion's house while Voronwë was escorted by only one, who looked at him sidelong all during the long walk to the guard tower. This was making him nervous, very anxious indeed. He dared not speak a word and tried to trod softly.
/---/
Many years earlier, in Nevrast...
"Mother, why do we not go to Hithlum to join with the High King and the rest of the House of Fingolfin?"
"We are loyal to Lord Turgon and we follow his path. We have discussed this before."
Aerlindë was patient with Voronwë, ever explaining, ever mindful that he understand what was happening around him in elvendom and the greater world. She was sure he would play a part in events of significance though she did not know how. She did not have the power to read the future or tell his fate. It was something a mother simply knew about her child.
She, herself, though related to the Noldor royal lineage through her marriage to Aranwë, kept out of the political affairs. She was loyal, yes, but not of influence to others and kept to her own and her small family. This had not stopped events from finding her, and when she had met her husband, she had fallen in love and become part of the Noldor clan. They were blessed with the birth of their son in Nevrast but shortly after her very own love fell to the creatures of the Dark Lord who were ever present in this Middle Earth. This left her and Voronwë here alone. She felt much in kinship with Turgon, son of Fingolfin. He too knew what it was to lose someone dear to him. He had lost his own wife on the dread Helcaraxë and was raising his child alone. Voronwë could no longer be called a child and would cry outrage should she dare it. Aerlindë smiled with these thoughts. Her son was indeed past his majority and coming into his own.
This evening they were finishing dinner and Voronwë asked, as was his nightly habit when the season permitted.
"Do you mind if I go to the beach for a swim?"
"I will clean up. You go while the sun lasts." She replied as she stood to take the dishes.
Voronwë nodded and got up from the table, pushing back his chair to carry the serving dishes to the kitchen.
"Thank you, mama. I will come back soon. It is a perfect night for it."
Tall of limb and long of stride, the young elf ambled out of the dwelling and headed down the seaside path toward the beach front. They lived west of Vinyamar, along the coast lands, within easy reach of Turgon's seat of power but not too easy as his mother liked to say. He drew in a breath and took the night sea air full into his lungs, fresh, moist and clean. Once he reached the beach, he stripped off his clothes, leaving them in a pile, to walk straight into the surf without pause as he did every night. The coldness of the ocean embraced him and without gasping he dove straight in, submerging to come up into a strong stroke heading due west out to sea. He was swimming into the setting sun, though it hung just above the horizon line.
Most nights he began with counting in his head--one, two, three--and so on--until he lost the numbers and his thoughts began to wander a path that he did not control: who he saw at market that day, when next he would be summoned to the capital for instruction as a warrior, and so on. It was during these nightly sojourns that he worked out his problems and cares and found solutions that might not normally occur to him. The exertion seemed to free up his mind, or he fancied Ulmo played a role providing guidance. It was Valar intervention.
Tonight his arms and legs moved in perfect rhythm, a tempo that no one had ever taught him but he had always known. Voronwë was very much of the sea, always thought of it as his friend, admiring the vastness of Arda's oceans. His body adjusted to the temperature and he did not feel at all cold as he cut through the waves. He felt as though he could swim all the way West if he wanted to. What a fanciful thought. He would have laughed at the idea but did not want to swallow saltwater.
/---/
Vinyamar was situated eastward in the mountains that looked down to the sea and though beautiful in its own right, it was only ever to be a temporary home for Turgon and his people. A place to rest, gather strength. Fingolfin's son had been visited by a dream from Ulmo which told him to found a city in secret, to make his people safe. A few select elves were privy to this information and to the formulation of a plan to build the shining star of Gondolin nestled deep within the Encircling Mountains, upon the plain of Tumladen.
"Ecthelion, we are going to need people to do this. Able bodied elves to lift, carry and do back breaking labor up there. How is this even possible?"
Glorfindel raised his voice now, to stress his point. This was a constant source of private debate between Ecthelion and his friend, who always had a mind toward the practicalities.
"Turgon is too much of a visionary and is not thinking of how it will be to implement this plan..."
"We will find a way, my friend. There is stone in those mountains to build with and we will find a way."
Ecthelion cut into his potato, trying to reassure Glorfindel that indeed, a large and beautiful city could be built in secret high up in the mountains without anyone knowing about it. He had his own doubts but he kept those to himself.
"You know Turgon will need us to lead this effort, hmm?"
He pushed the greens around on his plate.
"Aye, of course. I do not doubt that."
Glorfindel sat back and lifted his wine glass, thinking and pondering. He liked Vinyamar. It was nicely situated with access to the sea and inland regions. Why not stay here? Why not make this their home?
"Ecthelion, why can we not remain in Nevrast?"
The dark haired warrior laid down his utensils and picked up his own wine glass. He would finish his meal in a moment. Glorfindel did not seem inclined to eat for now.
"Well, I do not believe that is Ulmo's plan and Turgon has a mind to safety for us all. He would like to find a place where we are hidden away from the world and the troubles of this age. It will be secret and none of the strife and wars will touch us there."
"And we will not be able to help. We will neither trade nor participate in ANY of this region's affairs...we will be isolated in our hidden kingdom."
The golden warrior frowned into his glass. Gregarious by nature, the idea of being shut away in a mountain pass did not please him that much.
"Glorfindel, " Ecthelion set his glass down. "You do not have to go. You may go join Fingolfin, or with Finrod or others if this disturbs you so."
"No, no...I am just speaking to you. You are my friend, Ecthelion. I will of course keep my path with Turgon's. I am loyal to him. But you alone will know my doubts and keep them in confidence."
Ecthelion nodded and picked up his silver.
"Of course, as always. Now eat your dinner. It will get cold."
/---/
Turgon, of course, had a plan. Once he found the vale of Tumladen, he worked ceaselessly on the designs for a city that would be like a jewel set on that field of green, a city of towers, with streets lined with gems, to rival the cities of Valinor. He would call it Gondolin. >
And so his captains assisted him as he knew they would. Turgon shared with them his plan for the architecture of Ondolinde and they set about pulling together the elves that would be necessary to build such a city. All throughout Nevrast they travelled, from house to house, with messages for able-bodied elves to report to Vinyamar.
Voronwë was one such elf. And as always, he went when summoned.
/---/
Glorfindel surveyed the gathering of male elves as Turgon spoke to them. This was necessary. They needed to know why they were being sent into the mountains to build, what the true purpose was. No one was being conscripted thus they were being asked to volunteer. As Turgon explained Ulmo's visitation and the need for the city, Glorfindel paced, and looked from face to face. This whole idea made him understandably nervous and so he walked back and forth, stopping to look at their faces now and again. He wanted to judge reactions, eliminate anyone who he thought would not work hard or who might have the wrong attitude. His glance stopped on someone in the front row, dark of hair and with eyes such a turbulent green they reminded one of the ocean waves.
"Who is that?"
"Hmm?" Ecthelion whispered back.
"Second from the left in the first row." Glorfindel said softly.
"That is Voronwë. A good lad by all accounts, born here."
Glorfindel nodded and casually observed the elf who was paying rapt attention to Turgon's every word. Steadfast. Too young to know that yet.
Voronwë felt a jumble of emotions as he stood there listening to Lord Turgon speak. He knew that his fate was somehow caught up in all this as he got a chill at the back of his neck during the whole speech, an eerie feeling. He also knew he was being watched and assessed. That made him uncomfortable. He shifted on his feet and tried to focus on what was being said, though he did chance a look at those who were beside the future King of Gondolin.
He knew them all by name but not personally though he could tell that Lord Glorfindel was observing him closely. Though to what purpose he could not tell. He dared not look at the golden haired captain of the Noldor and stood straight and looking to the front. He was nervous under all this scrutiny. Voronwë was an adult but this was all a bit much for him to take. He still felt young and he was in fact younger than those assembled in the hall. Most of these elves had been born in Valinor. He stood out as an elf born in Nevrast.
Turgon finished speaking and took questions from the audience. How long would it take to build such a city? How many elves would go? And so forth. There was much they did not know so the Noldor prince answered as best he could. He apologized for the lack of information but asked them for their continued loyalty. It was a lot to expect, he knew, but it was the best he could do.
The group dispersed, and the elves milled around to speak with each other and Turgon's soldiers to gain information. Plans would be made to begin the work in secret and send advance parties to the Encircling Mountains and so look for materials to build the city.
Voronwë stood by himself in thought, mulling over the fact that they would be migrating inland and that he would have to part from the sea. He supposed there was nothing for it but there was a frown on his face nonetheless.
"You looked troubled, young Voronwë. Is there a question I can answer that might ease your worry?"
Glorfindel smiled as he approached the younger elf, speaking loud enough to be heard above the background noise, the buzz of conversation filling the hall.
"No question my lord..."
"Glorfindel, I am Glorfindel."
Voronwë nodded and then did ask.
"One cannot hope that there is an inland sea in those mountains?"
"Nay, my friend, we will have no access to Arda's oceans from Tumladen, I am afraid. This is a drawback and an irony, don't you think, since Ulmo is the source of all of this?"
"Yes, my lord."
"You may call me Glorfindel, if you will. I do not stand on titles."
"Yes, Lord Glorfindel."
"Just Glorfindel."
"Glorfindel."
"Very good."
Glorfindel was charmed by this serious young elf and would make sure that he was part of HIS party for the excavation and building of the site. He had a sense that this was an earnest person and someone who would work hard and do his best.
Voronwë smiled at the older elf and met an answering grin.
"When do we start?"
/---/
The building of Gondolin...
As with all construction on such a scale, it was necessary to divide the labor and so be efficient in action and resources. In this way they did not squander the people or their efforts. They travelled to Gondolin, as they were now calling it, in organized parties, each group led by a captain of Prince Turgon, son of Fingolfin. It was hoped that by not going as a large host, they would escape notice.
Ecthelion's party was responsible for the acquisition of building materials, specifically lumber from the mountain forests and quarried rock that would be the used to build the city. The wood would be made into scaffolding used to erect the structures and roll the large building blocks. White stone and marble which would be the streets and towers that would make up Ondolinde. They searched out these naturally found items and mined for them in the Encircling Mountains.
Galdor and Enerdhil's factions prepared the building elements to the precise specifications of the plan set out by Turgon. They cut and crafted the stone and marble, along with any other natural material that might be needed. The mixed mortar, lay bricks and what they did not know how to make, they quickly figured out. These elves worked in an encampment on the edge of the vale with large tents and a great deal of equipment to carry out their work. Chisels, hammers, axes and the like. Once materials were ready, they were transported immediately over to the building site to be incorporated into the city. Penlodh's people were responsible for transporting the raw materials to the artisan's camp and finished elements to the city's site and did so on a daily basis. Salgant's elves supplied the entire operation with food and water preparing each meal for all workers. Their goal was to provide hearty repast and to maintain a pristine site for this purpose.
In this manner each of Turgon's captains supervised a key task or element in the construction of this great city, all working together, organized in a concerted effort. They did so in secret, they did so for years.
Glorfindel was in charge of the construction of the city, implementing the design that Turgon had drawn from his imagination, setting it down to parchment in Vinyamar. Before they had left Nevrast, he had questioned the Noldor ruler exhaustively, pulling from him every vision and idea that he had for his schematic of the city. He did not want to fail at this and so he spent many a night with Turgon deep in discussion so he would get this right. He felt no small amount of pressure. The consequences of doing this wrong were just too horrible to imagine. Glorfindel tried to dispel such thoughts from his mind.
The construction of Gondolin followed an annual pattern as building was not possible during the winter months. They worked from Spring's thaw through the summer until the end of Fall and then repaired back to Nevrast for the Winter months. Again, always travelling in smaller groups so as not to draw attention to themselves. Stealth was essential so that Gondolin remained a secret to the rest of elvendom and the spies of Morgoth.
Voronwë had to admit that he enjoyed the beauty of the mountains and did so to Glorfindel one night as they lay looking up at the stars. The night was cool and crisp all around them and Varda's stars appeared closer than anywhere else in Middle Earth.
"Look how bright the stars are, Glorfindel. How vast is the night sky and limitless."
"Aye, tis beautiful, Voronwë. You are right about that."
"It is far vaster than the oceans, eh?"
"Two entirely different things altogether, I would imagine."
"Aye."
Glorfindel turned to his side and looked at Voronwë's profile as he looked up at the stars. It was a strong face, full of character and sense.
"We worked hard today. Are you tired?"
"Not so much, no. I am strangely awake now. Usually I would be asleep by now."
And this was true. Their habit was to fall into an exhausted sleep under the stars most nights right after a large dinner cooked on an open fire but tonight they lay awake for some reason.
"Yes, you would. I find you snore very loud, you know and you are usually asleep well before me."
"Snore loudly?!"
Voronwë feigned outrage turning to face Glorfindel and his outlandish suggestion. He knew the older elf was teasing him but looked at him sternly, frowning to show his displeasure. Glorfindel's very blue eyes shone with mirth and the captain looked pleased to have gotten such a reaction.
"I will have you know I do not snore. I breathe elegantly in my sleep."
"You snore as loud as any pig I have heard, Voronwë. I will swear an oath on it."
"I will get you for that, Glorfindel. I suggest you take it back."
"Oh do you? And if I don't?" His voice was laced with amusement.
Without answering, Voronwë launched and tried to pin the elder elf under his lesser weight. Glorfindel laughed then, giving way as they wrestled. He let his friend vanquish him easily and pleaded,
"Mercy, I declare, mercy!"
"You did not even try, Glorfindel. You let me win." Voronwë laughed as they looked at each other.
"I think I am at your mercy, my friend." Glorfindel said cryptically.
"I will not press my advantage then," Voronwë said from his position atop the other elf. He was beginning to feel a strange emotion between them and if he had known more about such things, he would have known that it was budding attraction and affection but now it only caused confusion in his mind.
Glorfindel nodded, though his eyes reflected a darker hue than moments before.
"You are good not to. I do not think I could show such restraint. Shall we sleep now? Else tomorrow we will pay."
Voronwë pretended to snore loudly as had been Glorfindel's contention.
"Get off me, pig."
The captain bucked his hips sending a thrill of awareness through them which they both ignored. The younger elf retreated to his own bedroll set up just next to his friend's. Voronwë did not know what he was feeling but he did enjoy the time he spent with Glorfindel very much. He lay down atop his blankets and sighed.
"Good night, Voronwë. I will wake you in the morning."
No easy task, he thought, as Voronwë did like to lie in. Glorfindel smiled up at the stars at the effort it would take to get him up.
"Good night, Glorfindel."
To be continued.
Aerlindë=sea chant or song of the sea
Voronwë=steadfast
Bronwë=Sindarin form of Voronwë
Nan-tathren=valley of willows
Laurëa Melda=Golden Beloved
Ondolindë: The Rock of the Music of the Water
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