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It took several days before Aranel had the strength again to climb the tower. During the interim, she, Erestor, and their daughter stayed in the House of the Hammer. Many visitors came throughout the week, most bringing gifts and all offering their well-wishes. The appearance of the King was the most unexpected; it was later rumored that he came upon the insistence of his nephew and that it was Maeglin himself who chose the lavish presents carried in by the servants of the King, but such rumors could not be confirmed.

Tauniel, not wishing to be far away, was given a room there as well – which would have forced Glorfindel to stay as well, but his irritation with Rog led to him waiting until Tauniel slept to slip out of the house and wander the dark streets of the marketplace alone. On occasion, he made it past the cobbled streets all the way to the stables, where he would find Speranza out of her stall. No one could discern how she managed it, but Glorfindel had ordered her to be left alone if she did not desire to be corralled. He still struggled to ride, so instead took walks with his new mount into the woods until the sun began to rise for the day.

He was further frustrated by the situation when he returned late one morning to find that they had all left. “Aranel wished to go back to the tower where she could rest in her own bed, and I think Erestor was starting to feel like a nuisance,” explained Meleth as Glorfindel hastily checked to make sure the few items they brought with them had been packed up and taken back. “I made sure that Erestor had everything when they went,” Meleth said as the drawers of all of the dressers and cabinets in both rooms were pulled open. “Rog sent along most of the staff to help get everything to the nursery. It was like a little parade back to the tower.”

Glorfindel still looked to be sure, and then courteously closed everything up again. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he mumbled on his way past.

Meleth, though a petite elleth as elleth’s come, was still a tough little thing. She blocked Glorfindel’s way, and looked up at him with her arms folded over her chest. “What is wrong, Glorfindel?”

“Nothing.”

“Please do not lie to me. Say that you would not wish to discuss it, and I would respect that, but do not lie.” Her voice, though soft, was stern, like the very caring scolding of a mother. “I find it difficult to believe my husband did not say something offensive to you while you were here.”

Glorfindel tried not to crack a smile from her flippant manner. “How do you come to that conclusion?”

“Because he is overly honest, and you are quite sensitive.”

The golden lord snorted.

“Well, you are. Is that what it was about? Because if it was, I can go find him and slap him for you right now.”

“What? No,” Glorfindel protested, shaking his head.

“Why not? I do it all the time,” she admitted. “Someone has to keep that brute in line.”

“He said I was motherly – no, maternal was the word he used,” Glorfindel explained when he realized Meleth was not about to move aside without some response. It actually made him feel better to say it.

Meleth pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down slightly, a contorted frown on her face. “I am very sorry,” she said sincerely. “He... I used the term once when we were discussing you.”

“Discussing me?” Glorfindel considered storming out of the house, but his feet stayed where they were.

“Oh, it was just one night when Rog came home after some gathering or something. Apparently, there were some children there, and a group of them were chasing each other. One of them fell and—“

“—scraped his knee,” interrupted Glorfindel as he recalled the incident. “I was in the middle of a conversation with your husband and Salgant at that moment. The boy was crying and holding his leg, and your husband called out to leave him, he would be fine a few minutes – which is probably true. I have never seen a skinned knee take more than an hour to heal. But, what are we if we do not help each other up when we fall?”

Meleth nodded throughout the retelling. “He came home and muttered and mumbled about you coddling everyone and how you nearly ruined Faelion’s life had you continued to placate him when he was in your army and things like that. I reminded him that before Elves had such great evils to contend with, life was much sweeter and it was not uncommon for males to have maternal instincts, and vice versa. I simply pointed out the fact that you resemble an Elda of old more-so than some of the awakened do these days.”

“Ah. Well, when you put it like that... do you really think I could pass for one of the ancients?” he questioned curiously.

“No. You have too much of the sun in you, dear,” said Meleth with laughter in her voice and a sparkle in her eyes. “From a philosophical standpoint you would, but first appearances make you a child of the Years of the Sun. I would wager you were born in the morning.”

“First light,” answered Glorfindel with a nod.

Meleth smiled. “I have a feeling your son is meant to be a child of the moon.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Just a feeling I get,” said Meleth with another smile. “When Tauniel is around, I sense she carries a moon-child with her. If that is true, do not expect him to sleep easily. Not that he will fuss,” she explained when Glorfindel looked concerned. “He will just be fascinated by the night. You might want to practice a few lullabies before he arrives.”

“Thank you for the advice,” said Glorfindel, knowing that Meleth had predicted such things before. He took anything she foresaw seriously. “Speaking of children, I have not yet seen my ‘niece’ today, and I am sure everyone is wondering where I am.”

Meleth looked to the floor as she stepped aside. Glorfindel began to walk past, but slowed his steps before he quite made it through the doorway. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I just...” Meleth shook her head. “Nevermind.” She patted his arm. “Go on, dear. They probably are waiting for you.”

“Meleth, if I said something—“

“No, no, Glorfindel, it is not you.” Meleth attempted a badly faked smile. “Go on. They are waiting.”

Glorfindel left the room, but hesitated in the hallway and came back. “Meleth, if something is—“

“Is Erestor not my granddaughter’s father?”

Of anything Glorfindel might have imagined being asked, the question Meleth now wrung her hands over was not it. “I... I think so. I mean... I know it is not me,” he assured her. “Why do you ask?” Glorfindel noted that Meleth trembled slightly now, so he led her to the rocking chair and then pulled the footstool up closer for him to sit on. “Has someone said something to make you think otherwise?”

“There are rumors,” said Meleth. “When King Turgon had those gifts sent, one of the servants mentioned that it was Lord Maeglin who had commissioned some of them ahead of time and chosen the rest. I went to the market and began to ask questions. Some of the rumors were loosely confirmed, and I kept wondering why. Why would Maeglin take an interest in my granddaughter?”

“He might just like children,” said Glorfindel, but it sounded stupid as soon as he had said it. Maeglin had tried to ban children from the courtyard, the dining hall, and some of the other public places during council meetings. He refused to attend any wedding celebration where children were invited. “Alright, it is odd,” admitted Glorfindel.

“He was here, two nights ago.”

“I do not recall seeing him,” said Glorfindel. Though he left during most of the nights, he had stayed in the evenings when visitors came to call. Some were as interested in Tauniel and their baby as they were of Aranel’s daughter, so Glorfindel had been as dutiful of a husband as possible, greeting guests and shooing them politely away when Tauniel tired.

Meleth sighed. “He snuck in the open window in the nursery. There was no sound, but I awoke knowing someone was within the house. Rog will sleep through a storm, so I gathered a shawl around my shoulders and hurried to the room. I guessed it might be one of Salgant’s stray cats; they like to wander in, and the smell of milk from the baby might have lured one in. When I arrived at the door, I found it ajar.

“I peeked in and saw him, standing by the cradle. He was looking down at her, and she stirred so he lifted her from the bed and held and hushed her. Then he spoke.”

-----

“You remind me of my mother,” whispered Maeglin in the darkness. He knew someone was watching him, but they had not moved and he guessed that they would not. If they left, the strangling, the dark Elf who had had invaded the city and taken a place in the king’s home and hierarchy might do something horrible to the baby. So they stayed, and watched, and no one would believe them if they said anything. Who would believe that an elf Lord had climbed the side of the house and crawled into a window, to see an elfling? “I wish I could be here for you, little girl, but I must trust that Erestor will raise you as well as I would.” He bent his head and kissed the silent elfling’s forehead. “It pains me, but it is better this way. If anyone learned the truth, you would be shunned, and I only want the best for you, my child.”

He kissed the baby again and smiled in the darkness. He knew he could not stay much longer, for he feared he would be unable to leave. “I have heard you have remained unnamed; let us hope he does not make you wait as long as my father did.” His voice had begun to turn angry in remembrance, and the baby made an unhappy noise. “Shh, little one, hush now, hush. I have no time to say all I wish, but know this: I love you, Nenniach.”

-----

“Then he settled her back into the cradle. Before I could say anything, he was gone.”

Glorfindel thought back to previous nights, and it occurred to him that he often saw Maeglin roaming the streets. He wondered how many times Maeglin had come into the house unseen. A chill crept upon him as he recalled conversations he had with Erestor and the doubts and bewilderment on the part of his friend. “We need to tell Erestor.”

“No.” Meleth adamantly shook her head. “Glorfindel, I have no proof. I have no witness. It would be my word against his – the wet nurse against the lord. I am certain he would make a mockery of me, and it would put Rog’s house in jeopardy. The baby would have a difficult life; Erestor would... well, I cannot imagine how it would tear him apart from Aranel. This baby saved them from disaster. Aranel came to me many nights, upset about the hasty decisions she had made in getting herself into this marriage. Now, they have something to finally bind them together.”

“What if Maeglin decides to say something?” asked Glorfindel.

“I do not think he will. It seems he is willing to watch her from afar. Glorfindel, I am sorry, I should not have burdened you with this. Please, you cannot tell Erestor or anyone else,” begged Meleth.

Glorfindel reached for Meleth’s tiny hands and cupped them within his own. “For your sake, and for the sake of the baby, I will say nothing.”

“Thank you.”


When Glorfindel did leave, he had much to think about as he walked home. The walk was appreciated, for it gave him time for contemplation. One thought nagged him – how certain was he that the child carried by Tauniel was his? He finally dismissed the idea as part of an overactive imagination and an overtired mind.

At home, he found that Aranel and the baby were napping, and Tauniel was attending Idril’s sewing circle for the afternoon. “Idril wanted to have a little party for Tauniel, so I doubt she will be home until late,” said Erestor while Glorfindel poured a glass of wine for himself. “Would you bring another glass for me?” he added as Glorfindel pushed the cork back into the mouth of the bottle.

“What happened to ‘I stopped drinking’?” wondered Glorfindel as he retrieved a second glass.

“I gave up not drinking in order to preserve my sanity.”

“I see.” Glorfindel brought the goblets to the table, where Erestor sat amid open books. “You look like you are doing some research.”

“I suppose. I am trying to find a suitable name for my daughter.” Erestor flipped through a few pages of the book directly in front of him. “Any suggestions?”

Glorfindel was still standing, the glasses still in his hands. He swallowed hard and watched as Erestor casually pulled another book on top of the one he had been reading. “Well, I guess... you could come up with a combination of your names or something that incorporates yours. A lot of people do that.”

“I want something special for her,” said Erestor. “Nothing I have come up with so far seems to fit.”

Still gripping the goblets, Glorfindel finally said, “What about Nenniach?” He held his breath as Erestor paused and considered the name.

“I like that one.” Erestor pushed the books away and nonchalantly reached forward to take one of the glasses. He settled back into his chair and motioned that Glorfindel should sit down as well. “How did you think of that so fast?”

“Oh, well...” Glorfindel shrugged to buy time. “My mother named me after my one really evident feature, and Nenniach, umm, your daughter, she has beautiful hazel eyes – green, blue, grey, violet, and they even have flecks of red and gold in them.”

“That makes a lot of sense. And, it is unique and lovely.” Erestor sipped his wine. “Aredhel had hazel eyes.”

Glorfindel had almost taken a sip of his wine, and surely would have choked on it if he had. He set the goblet down and said, “Well, I guess it is good that Fingolfin did not name her Nenniach, or you would not be able to use the name.”

“True enough. I am tired of these books. Nenniach it is,” declared Erestor as he tapped his glass against Glorfindel’s, startling him. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing,” lied Glorfindel. The look in Erestor’s eyes clearly stated that he was not believed, so Glorfindel said, “I just realized that I am going to be in your position very soon. I had better start thinking of some names.”

“Here.” Erestor pushed the books further away and towards Glorfindel. “Maybe these will help. I regret to inform you, however, that you may not have the name Nenniach back.”

“The last thing I am about to do is give my child a feminine or gender-neutral name,” declared Glorfindel. “He is going to be something-ion or something-dir or something-tor or ros or gon or... just nothing with an el at the end, of that I am certain!”
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