In Gondolin, the long-standing rules were simple, and the penalties harsh. No one stole, no one blasphemed Eru or the Valar (especially not Ulmo), no one murdered or raped, and no one could leave except when given the King’s leave (and the King’s leave was hard to come by).

There was one rule more, one not often spoken of, and the one broken most often. For whatever reason it was decreed, no man was to lie with another man as he would lie with his wife. A few different interpretations existed, but the overwhelming consensus was that romantic love between those of the same gender was outlawed and could bear the penalty of prison, death, or both. While there were no specific cases to be cited, there were enough shocking stories, none of which could be substantiated, that kept the private lives of those who might disobey as hidden as the city they lived in.

No one had ever challenged the law, openly or otherwise, until now. Egalmoth sat in the private chambers of the King, seated mere feet from him. His hands trembled slightly, so he held them clasped together and concealed them within the sleeves of his robe. He had followed proper formality, but there had been little small talk before he got right to his point. The law, he argued, was archaic and unjust, and simply uncalled for.

Since it was immediately obvious to Turgon that Egalmoth, a happily married father with a beautiful wife and preciously precocious daughters, was a more-or-less messenger, the King interrupted the long list of reasons Egalmoth had compiled with an abrupt question. “Who has sent you?”

“No one, Your Majesty. I come on my own accord.” He paused. “I come on behalf of two unknowing friends I hold dear to me, who are unbeknownst to one another to have feelings for each other as has been confided in me. But to each other, they say nothing, and do nothing, for while each yearns for it, they respect you too greatly, Your Majesty. They are more loyal to you than to their own lives, and for that they say nothing.” He hoped he had not said too much. “They are not the only two, Your Grace. Many others would benefit from this change in law – many hide what they do now.” Egalmoth’s heart thundered in his heart – he hoped he had not overstepped his bounds.

Turgon sipped from a dark cup of bitter tea. “You are certain of this?”

“I would not ask you for such concession in the law if it were untrue.” Egalmoth bowed his head as he continued, unable to continue to look into those stern eyes that were upon him. “Your Majesty, if I have upset you with my observations, I apologize truly. However, I could not allow others a continued lonely existence when I myself am more than content with my life, and others are not at liberty to speak to you on such a matter for fear of what might happen if they did speak their minds. If my presence this morning displeases you, dismiss me – but I beg you, for the sake of Gondolin, dismiss any thought of enforcing that law which I believe holds no value for us.”

The cup was set down upon its saucer and it upon the table beside Turgon’s chair. He drummed the fingers of his left hand monotonously against the hard leather arm while he stroked his chin thoughtfully with the right. “You have flawed in only one way: I wish you might have come to me sooner.” Egalmoth looked up to see a somewhat distant look on Turgon’s face. “That law is not something I strictly believe in. My grandfather created it; namely, to keep a family scandal from happening.”

“Family scandal?” Egalmoth was glad he was not being scrutinized, for the secrets of Finwe’s grandsons were not particularly guarded, and many a drinking song and poem had been written of the suspected affair. There was no possible way he could look convincingly surprised to hear what his King was to say next.

Turgon did not shy away from the truth of the matter. “He knew that Fingon and Maedhros were in love with one another, so he declared long ago in Valinor that such a thing was unnatural. He cited the will of Eru, and the pairings at the awakening. No one argued, not even my brother or my cousin.” He stood up and walked to a window, and pushed back the burgundy curtain to look out over his city. “It is a shame, for I know how much they cared for one another, but they never acted on those feelings. They never had a chance. Even when Fingon was King, he felt he could not disobey the law, and thus he left it in place.”

Egalmoth’s next words were hopeful as he joined Turgon at the window. “So... you would consider voiding it, Your Grace?”

“Who is the other, Lord Egalmoth?”

Egalmoth was silent, for he was still clouded with the uncertainty that Turgon might not change his mind on the matter. It was a perfect opportunity to make an example out of someone, if Turgon so chose.

The silence was interrupted by Turgon. “I know the first must be Ecthelion. Is it not? You need not answer; I know it is. He is not always so discreet.” A smile played upon Turgon’s lips. “When we were crossing the Helcaraxe, he always made to sound so concerned, that we should gather together to share body heat no matter how unseemly it seem. Of course, to keep any gentlemen from accidentally fondling a lady in such circumstances, his suggestion was that the men should gather with the men and the women gather together as well. I suppose no one saw harm in his plan, but I, with the brother I had, saw right through it.” The smile faltered and Turgon pursed his lips together. “Ecthelion reminds me so much of my brother.”

“I am sorry, Your Majesty,” replied Egalmoth, though for what, he was not sure.

The King let the curtain fall back into place. “Are you certain the other you wish not to name returns Ecthelion’s feelings?”

“I am sure of it,” confirmed Egalmoth with a nod.

“Then bring them to me this evening. Say nothing as to why. I have always known that such couplings occur here; I have never actively done anything to stop them.”

“Say nothing? But they will know,” Egalmoth gently argued. “They will suspect, at the least, that something is wrong.”

“I know. I need to see just how fearful they will be when brought before me,” explained Turgon. “I need to know what those in the city who have been hiding because of this are feeling.” He sighed and shook his head. “I never wanted to be a feared ruler. That was not my intention. But how can any ruler be loved by his people if he denies the love of his people? Ecthelion… and dare I guess the other, Glorfindel?” Turgon nodded when Egalmoth averted his gaze and said nothing. “They deserve a chance. The chance my brother never had. Bring them to my chambers this evening.”

Egalmoth bowed as he readied to leave. Though he was apprehensive to think of how terrified his friends would be for a brief time that evening, if the King’s short experiment in leadership brought about an end to the rule, he hoped they would deem it worth in the end. “The good of Gondolin is in your hands. You are wise to make this change, Your Majesty.”

“Not wise enough, I am afraid, or else I would not feel such regret now for my inaction of the past,” Turgon admitted only after Egalmoth had left the room.