“So, uh, what should we do if we need to relieve ourselves?” Glorfindel waited to ask the question after Thorondor and his wife left the nest, not wanting to sound foolish before the King of the Skies. Erestor smirked and pointed over the side of the nest, but before he could give further explanation, one of the Eaglets decided that a demonstration was better.
“Like this!” the young Eaglet Prince declared. He hopped up on the edge of the nest, still covered in downy brown and grey fluff and unable to fly. Lifting up his tail and the undeveloped feathers upon it, he squatted slightly, and then stood up again and ruffled his tiny feathers. “See?”
“Like that,” agreed Erestor as Landroval hopped back down, fluttering his fluff wings when he landed. “Just make sure you face forward when you do it so you do not end up pissing up the nest.”
“And for those of us not intending to try to balance on intertwined branches from a height well above the clouds?”
“Are you afraid of heights, Mr. Glorfindel?” It was the other Eaglet who asked this question, named Gwaihir, who had proudly explained a number of times since their arrival that he was named after one of his father’s greatest allies, an Eagle named Gwaewar, who had offered his assistance during the adventures of Beren and Luthien. In fact, this was the first thing the youngster had said that did not detail some part of that adventure, which, admittedly, had begun to annoy Glorfindel.
“The heights I can handle; the falling I would rather not deal with.” He tentatively crept closer to the part of the nest that hung over the cavern. “Is it safe that I go to this side? Will the balance be thrown off?”
“Sometimes, both mother and father perch on that side when they come to feed us. The whole nest is safe,” said Landroval. He fluffed and preened his feathers as Glorfindel came closer to the edge where he was at. “Even when it is windy and the nest shakes, it has never fallen down.”
That froze Glorfindel immediately, and he did not move again until Erestor placed a hand upon his back and took hold of one of his hands. “Come on. I have an idea.” He managed to coax Glorfindel to the edge of the nest, where the walls were built up over a meter high and nearly half a meter thick. “Look at how sturdy this is. They took years to build this.” Erestor grasped one of the branches and tried to dislodge it. “Completely solid.” He let go of Glorfindel and climbed up onto the edge of the nest, then walked around part of it, back and forth. “Even if a breeze comes, you can jump back down into the nest.”
Glorfindel did not look convinced. “There has to be another way to do this.”
“I suppose we could ask Thorondor to fly you up or down to a place with enough ground for you to stand upon if you would prefer that,” said Erestor as he leaped back into the nest. It did not shake at all from the impact, which eased Glorfindel’s fears about the design. “But I think that will be fairly impractical. Take off your belt.”
“What?” Glorfindel took a step away as Erestor approached. He had a bad feeling Erestor was just going to make him stand up on the ledge of the nest anyhow. “Why?”
“Just do it.” Erestor had already closed the distance between them, and was now simply removing it himself. The Eaglets looked on with great curiosity. “Alright, now, we do this...” Erestor pulled the end of the leather through the buckle, until there was only a very small loop. He took hold of Glorfindel’s hand and slid the belt around his wrist, then tightened it.
“Afraid you might lose me?” asked Glorfindel as he watched Erestor.
Erestor held the end of the belt firmly. “I am going to stand right behind you – inside of the nest. If something suddenly happens or you slip off, I can pull you back in,” he said as he lifted up the end that he held on to.
“Oh, Erestor is very clever!” decided Landroval. He flicked his head about, watching everything that was going on, waiting to see if the plan would work.
Meanwhile, Gwaihir had walked over to join them, and was standing beside Glorfindel. “I was worried the first time I had to stand on the ledge myself. I even fell once. But father is watching, always, even now, and if you did fall he would rescue you.”
“Father likes Elves,” added Landroval, sure to get a word in even if Gwaihir had said all that needed saying.
It was cold at the great height they were at, and waiting much longer was not an option. Glorfindel took a deep breath before setting his hands upon the edge so that he could boost himself up.
“Look up, not down,” advised Erestor. “It helps.”
Glorfindel did so, fumbling a little since he dared not even glance downward for fear he might see the tops of trees or the bottom of the pit. He finished as quickly as possible, then scrambled back into the nest and worried about adjusting his clothing until after he was back within the safety of the Eagle sanctuary.
When Thorondor and his wife, Alagos, returned to the nest, it was Thorondor who tended to the feeding of his sons, while Alagos presented the Elves with a branch bespeckled with tender mountain blueberries. The simple meal quenched their thirst and drove away their hunger while Alagos told them of things they had seen and heard.
“The Enemy has two goals in mind,” said Alagos softly, for even in this secret place of the Eagles, there was always a fear of spies. “Morgoth’s hatred was great for King Fingon, perhaps more so even than it was for Feanor or Fingolfin.”
“But Fingolfin wounded Morgoth,” recalled Erestor. “He challenged him directly in battle. As did Feanor. Technically, Fingon did the same.”
“But Fingon was the only one to do as Morgoth had.” Alagos stretched her neck about and looked up, a scan of the skies for enemies, just in case. “Morgoth stole from the Elves and took it back with him; Fingon stole back from him without fighting him. Morgoth hated Fingon because he so greatly feared him.”
“But why? Fingon was never really a fighter to begin with,” said Erestor.
“It has nothing to do with that. There is a purity that Morgoth feared. Fingon did nothing for his own gain – not even when he rescued Maedhros, for he had believed that Maedhros had betrayed him at that point.”
“The burning of the ships at Losgar,” said Erestor quietly to Glorfindel, who was trying to follow along without knowing all of the details of the early history of the age.
Alagos picked up the discarded blueberry vine in her beak and used it to reinforce a section of the nest. “Fingon sent his son away; Morgoth knows that once grown, Ereinion will be a commanding king. If he can find the young prince now, he can destroy him before he has a chance to gain power. Morgoth has a primary goal, though, and that is to find Gondolin and destroy it. He actually believes that Ereinion is being hidden in Gondolin, that King Turgon would keep his nephew close. He has heard a nephew spoken of, and thinks this must be Ereinion.”
Erestor and Glorfindel glanced at one another, the news unsettling to them both. “How close is Morgoth coming to discovering Gondolin?”
“Twice we have destroyed scouting parties on the borders,” said Thorondor gravely. “I have sent others to the far reaches, to destroy as many of these scout parties as they can find in different places so that our haven is not discovered, but I assume it is only a matter of time before Morgoth figures out that as unlikely as this place is, it will be the only place remaining and therefore the only place it could be.”
After the meal, Erestor suggested a ‘flight for fun’, which Glorfindel immediately declined. While Erestor and Thorondor took off into the starry night, Glorfindel snuggled into the back of the nest, closest to the mountain ledge it was built on, and fell asleep in the downy softness of shed pinfeathers and moss that had been collected there.
Three more days and nights passed the same way. Erestor and Glorfindel would ride Thorondor during the waking hours to patrol the borders and beyond, for upon the wind they traveled further and faster than they ever would have on foot. By the end of the second day, Glorfindel was becoming more comfortable with the height, and on the fourth day suggested he ride in the front. Although there were moments of slight panic, the sheer awe of what they were doing outweighed his fears.
“Could I come with you tonight?” he whispered to Erestor as they finished their now customary blueberry dinner. “Just for a little while, maybe?”
“Sure!” Erestor’s smile was contagious. “Feeling a little better about flying?”
“More that I am feeling less anxiety about falling,” said Glorfindel.
Once Gwaihir and Landroval were snuggled under Alagos’ wing, tucked in for the night by their father, Thorondor waited for the Elves to mount and then hopped up to perch on the edge of the nest. “Do not wait up for us,” he teasingly said to Alagos.
“Just be sure to bring back breakfast by dawn,” she told him before she tucked her head under her other wing.
If an Eagle could grin, Thorondor might have before literally dropping off the edge of the nest. He spread his wings out as they dived straight down, and as Glorfindel tightened his grip on Erestor (who was, of all things, laughing!) he began to rethink his decision. At what felt like the last minute, Thorondor caught the wind and swoop in an upward arc, eventually bringing them up to a great height. There he arched up and made a complete loop, turning them all upside down for a split second.
“Breathe,” directed Erestor once they were righted again, and Glorfindel gasped for air. “Do you want to go back?”
“No,” replied Glorfindel immediately. “Just warn me about stuff like that.”
“What fun will that be?” wondered Thorondor, powerful wings beating to keep them aloft.
Erestor managed to turn around so that he could face Glorfindel. “We can easily take you back if you would prefer. How Thorondor moves all depends on current and gusts of wind.”
“No,” said Glorfindel again. “This is probably my last night outside of Gondolin, and I want to see as much of it as I can.”
With a curt nod, Erestor turned back around. “Hold on. Enjoy the ride. Neither of us are going to let you fall.”
---
“...and then, we were so close to the water that we were able to run our fingers through it as we flew, and then, we were so close to the tops of the trees that we could see the individual leaves, and then—“
“And then we reached the council chambers, so we will be sure to tell you all about it as soon as we are finished,” promised Erestor. He and Glorfindel, upon entering the city, went directly to Rog’s estate. It had been Erestor’s assumption that when Aranel was informed of what had happened, she would likely take the children to her father’s house (where an ‘I told you so’ or two were bound to have been said), where she and Meleth could best take care of them with Erestor and Glorfindel gone.
His assumption had been correct, and after a joyful reunion, the group headed to the tower. Meleth informed them that a council meeting was in session; it was the reason that Rog was not present in his house. Aranel and Meleth accompanied them to the tower, for once Erestor had Nenniach in his arms she was quite adamant about staying there, while Glorfindel did not wish to hand Indelion back to Meleth until he had to. Glorfindel spent the walk to the tower telling his son of all of the adventures he had had while away, despite the fact that Indelion was content to chew on an errant golden lock that had just managed to grow long enough now that the babe could suck on the end of it.
“We shall wait here for you,” promised Aranel. As she took Nenniach back into her arms, she stretched up and kissed Erestor, his arms falling into place around her back and his lips comfortably pressing against hers. “Welcome home. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” he said, his smile warm, his gaze falling upon their daughter.
Glorfindel looked away then, a sense of loneliness washing over him. When he saw Indelion, however, he was reminded of all he did have, and he rubbed his nose against his son’s. “Ada will be right back. Be good for Auntie Meleth,” he said as he relinquished the baby to her.
“I prefer Grandnan,” admitted Meleth. “Grandmothers are allowed to spoil much more than aunts are,” she declared.
“Whatever you wish,” said Glorfindel, wiping the spit off of his hair.
He and Erestor entered into the foyer, and expected the surprised look that the guards gave them. Before anyone could question their being there, Erestor said, “We have completed our task with the aid of King Thorondor of the Skies, and must speak urgently to the council on our findings.”
Taking this to mean that there might have been some breach in the security of the borders, the guards opened the doors at once, and Erestor and Glorfindel slid through the entrance before it was even fully opened.
Egalmoth had been discussing the changes in events for the midsummer games, but his voice trailed off when everyone looked to the doors and saw the pair who entered. The Lord of the Heavenly Arch made eye contact with Turgon, who waved him back to his seat. As Egalmoth sat down, the king stood up. “I assume there is a very good reason that you have returned so quickly?”
“With aid from the other king who rules Gondolin, we were able to finish our task and then some,” said Erestor.
Turgon gave Erestor what should have been a withering look. “Do not feed me riddles, Erestor, not today.”
Glorfindel stepped forward, hoping to ease the tension. “We were aided by Thorondor, and patrolled from the skies. In these few days, our task has been completed. There are no spies in the surrounding areas, at least none that can be seen by us. We did, however, learn valuable information regarding future plans that Morgoth may have, and these we would wish to speak to you of privately.”
Murmurs between lords quietly rustled through the room, and Turgon raised his hand for silence. “We will speak after the meeting. Take your places in council for now.”
“Your highness,” said Maeglin, standing up and looking quite upset. “It is my understanding that at this time Lords Glorfindel and Erestor are on leave, and should not be here if they have other representation here.”
“Indeed, they are on leave,” stated Turgon. “However, they are here now, and as they and their deed will be discussed it is only right to keep them here.”
Maeglin sat back down, and then whispered something to Celebrimbor that made him frown. There were a few additional chairs kept in the room, and a page swiftly retrieved two of them and placed them in the appropriate places for the unexpected lords.
Mirdirin moved his chair slightly to the right to make room for Glorfindel. “Good to see you,” he said in a hushed voice. “Ecthelion told me what happened the night Turgon sent you off. I do hope there will be no lasting trouble for you?”
“Not for me,” said Glorfindel quietly. “Really, it is Erestor who needs to watch himself.”
Once everyone had settled in, Turgon cleared his throat and sat back upon his throne. “I believe some here are aware of the situation that occurred last week, but for the benefit of everyone and to kill any rumors that might be about, Lord Ecthelion shall explain what happened.”
Ecthelion stood up, looking a little uncomfortable, but only for a moment. “Some youngsters were practicing their archery skills upon moving targets, throwing apples into the air to shoot. One of them saw a small bird, and aimed to shoot it down. He did so, yet it turned out that it was no common songbird, but a carrier of a message from Doriath.” The murmurings began again. “It was discovered that the thrush was a messenger, trained by Lord Erestor to carry messages to and from Lord Saeros. Due to the breach of security, it was decided that Lord Erestor, accompanied by Lord Glorfindel, would search the borders to be sure no one had followed the thrush here.”
“Why Lord Glorfindel?” asked Duilin.
“Lord Glorfindel was aware of the arrangement; he had seen the birds before and said nothing of them to the king, thinking it of little importance.”
Glorfindel frowned, but did not object to Ecthelion’s explanation. He was not in the mood for an argument with his friend.
There was much discussion at the House of the Tree, and when there was a lull, it was Galdor who stood and asked, “Is it the type of bird used, or that there was a bird at all?”
Ecthelion looked to Turgon, who narrowed his eyes. “Nothing that comes in should be allowed to go out again.”
“So you wish us to stop every bird and beast that tries to exit?” Galdor further questioned. “Rats, mice, hawks, fish, tigers, raccoons, pigeons—“
“Within reason,” interrupted Turgon.
Laiqalasse leaned forward over the desk to tap Galdor on the shoulder. The two conversed quietly for a moment, speaking in the very ancient tongue of their Telerin ancestors, before Galdor once again spoke to the council. “We use squirrels.”
“I beg your pardon?” Turgon, normally pale, was nearly as white as his bed sheets.
“We hide the messages in pieces of pottery shaped like acorns. The squirrels transfer them many times, until they reach the forests of Greenwood.” Galdor then nervously added, “Though he is not here to defend himself, Voronwe uses seagulls to keep in contact with Cirdan on the western coast.”
Turgon, had he not already been sitting, likely would have needed to. Glorfindel looked over to Erestor, and saw that the dark elf was wearing a very self-satisfied look on his face. “Seagulls? Seriously? Seagulls are... practically the stupidest creature ever sung into being.”
“I believe Melkor is credited with those,” said Salgant to lighten the mood. “I must admit, I have never used other creatures to relay messages outside of this realm, but then, very few wish to speak to me anyhow.”
“Are there any other messengers I should know of?” asked Turgon. He looked to be hoping that no one else would answer, but Penlodh raised his hand. “Oh dear... what do you use?” The king was reclined slightly now, rubbing his throbbing left temple.
“A pair of foxes,” he said apologetically. “I did not realize it went against your rules.”
“Doves,” said Duilin abruptly. “Not often, but they are there when we need to.”
Rog cleared his throat, and added bats to the list, while Egalmoth revealed that the Heavenly Arch used an owl. “For the record,” added Egalmoth, “it was Lady Idril who suggested the owl, for she had one in her employ before she began using falcons.”
This made Turgon sit upright again. “My daughter? My daughter is communicating with those outside of Gondolin?”
“She used it to send messages to her uncle,” explained Egalmoth. “I do not know if she still sends messages to anyone now,” he added sadly.
“Should we stop?” Rog dared to ask after an uncomfortable silence.
“No... just...” Turgon shook his head. “Let Ecthelion know what you are all doing so that in the case of... take it up with him. We are done here for today. You are all dismissed. Go,” he added, making a disgusted, dismissive motion with both hands.
Glorfindel walked up to the front as everyone else quickly gathered their things and took to leaving. “Your highness, if you have a moment—“
“Not now, Glorfindel. Speak to me later,” said Turgon. He then asked, “You were not going above my orders in this, were you?”
“No, not I. I am sorry I never said anything of what Erestor was doing to you,” he added, for Turgon’s unrest was upsetting him as well.
Turgon seemed to force a smile for a moment, and then said, “You and Ecthelion have always been loyal to me. Thank you for that.”
Glorfindel shifted uncomfortably. “Thank you, but—“
“In every way which has truly mattered,” added Turgon, that unspoken transgression somehow forgiven with those words. “Come to speak with me tonight; bring Erestor with you. I wish to know what Thorondor has told you.”
