“What are you doing today?” asked Meleth when she saw Glorfindel had just walked past the door of the nursery.
Glorfindel wandered back sleepily. “I have a meeting with Turgon. I postponed it twice, so I really need to see what he wants.”
“Yes, you should. I will get Indelion ready so that you can take him with you.” Meleth began bustling around the nursery, packing a bag with a number of necessities.
As he entered the nursery with a groan, Glorfindel justified his outburst with, “Meleth, I need to speak to Turgon without Indelion being in the way.”
“You had better not be turning into Tauniel,” warned Meleth, not ceasing in her task.
Indelion stirred, and when he realized that Glorfindel was in the room, began to babble out a series of nonsense words with a few syllables that sounded liked ‘Ada’ thrown in until he was picked up. “Meleth, you know how attached I am to him. But this is probably one of those meetings where I should go alone.”
“Who has known Turgon longer, you or I?” pressed the elleth.
“Uhm... I would not normally point out the age of a lady, but... you have.”
“Take your son with you.” Meleth set the bag on the table next to the door. “He still needs to be changed and fed before you go.”
“Ugh... so do I. Can you at least watch him until I am done in the bathroom.”
“I do not have the time for you to take a full bath this morning. Rog and I are taking Nenniach today and playing doting grandparents, and you know how few days he has free, what with the upcoming games, the extra council work he is doing, and managing the estate without me.”
Glorfindel could not argue, and in fact, was a little amused that with so few words Meleth could make him feel so guilty at trying to sneak off. “I just need a few minutes to wash my face and comb my hair. Please?” His namesake was back past his shoulders, but braiding was hardly manageable yet, so his hair continued to be a fright in the mornings. Glorfindel gave Meleth a very doleful look, and with a sigh Meleth took Indelion into her arms. “You know, as long as you have him and I am indisposed, you could give him breakfast while I am—“
“Do not push your luck,” Meleth said, giving Glorfindel a shove towards the door.
Glorfindel chuckled. “It was worth a try.”
Following breakfast and a changing, Glorfindel decided to give Indelion a bath before taking him along to his meeting. Instead of using the little wash basin, he filled the big tub halfway, which gave Indelion great joy, for it meant that instead of just one little wooden boat or duck, the entire fleet and flock could join him. There was a great deal of splashing and playing, resulting in Glorfindel receiving a bath as well despite being knelt at the side of the tub.
“As much as I would like to keep this up the rest of the day,” apologized Glorfindel as he wrapped a fluffy towel around Indelion and lifted him out of the water, “we need to go and see the king, because he does not like it when people are late for his meetings.”
Since they were only going up the stairs to the top floors of the tower, it did not seem necessary to Glorfindel that he bundle up Indelion as he would have if they were going outdoors. The wispy winds of early spring still chilled his infant son, but inside fires burned at every turn and strong brick covered in rich, heavy tapestries kept those winds away.
He did remember to bring the bag that Meleth had put together for him. “Have a good day,” said Aranel as she herself wrapped a shawl about her shoulders and retrieved an empty basket from the closet.
“You as well,” replied Glorfindel. He noticed the basket and asked, “Going to the market?”
“Just for a little while. I have not had the chance to wander since Nenniach was born,” she told him. “Then I am meeting some friends, and we are going to see a matinee performance of that play everyone is so wild about. They say it is not half as good without Erestor in it, but I think sometimes they say that only when I am around.” She smiled crookedly. “I would never say it to him, but his singing is not as perfected as most others in his profession. As an actor he is quite good, but everyone wants a musical.”
“He has a low range. Hitting higher notes is difficult for him,” defended Glorfindel.
Aranel nodded. “I know. However, there are hardly any lead parts written for a bass. It puts him into a hard position of being cast as a baritone, and then straining to keep in tune. Do you know who does have a perfect range for musicals?” When Glorfindel did not answer, Aranel just tilted her head slightly towards him.
“Stage fright. I could never do what he does.”
“If you ever change your mind, you know how hard it is to find a good tenor.” Aranel came over to Glorfindel, and hushed Indelion, who had begun to fuss, with some nonsense talk and a kiss on his nose. “Cousin Salgant would have you cast in less than a moment.”
“My stomach is already knotted at the sheer thought of all those people watching me.”
“You do have a spectacular voice, though. I wish you would let more people hear it. Ecthelion is another one,” she added. “Neither of you ever sing in public.”
“Maybe he is a little shy as well,” reasoned Glorfindel. He made sure he had everything he would need, and then followed Aranel out. “Will you be back for supper?”
Aranel shook her head. “I am dining with my parents tonight, and brining Nenniach back with me when I am done. I am sure you are welcome to come if you like – Erestor will be there.”
Despite the urge to see Erestor, Glorfindel shook his head, for the urge not to see Rog was all the greater. “I just wanted to know whether to wait for you or not.”
“Alright. Well, have fun,” she said as she went to the stairs leading down, and he to those leading up.
Glorfindel took the steps slowly. He kept his aches and pains from being a bother to anyone, so it was really a matter between himself and the healers. When he reached the landing, he paused, not caring that he might be late. Indelion, although looking confused, did not begin to fuss as Glorfindel thought he might when they stopped so that Glorfindel could stand slumped against the wall to catch his breath. “I hate stairs,” he declared before coughing, careful to turn his head away from the baby.
When he did reach the door that lead into Turgon’s suite, he found a note. “Wrong way,” he told Indelion as he crushed the note with his fist and shoved it into the bag he had with him. The note told of a party that would be occurring and how Idril was readying the suite for it, and would Glorfindel like to come back later for it? But in the meantime, he should go downstairs, to the sub-basement level, where Turgon’s private study was located. He and Indelion began the decent, with Glorfindel wondering how he would manage climbing back up the stairs again later if one flight had caused him such trouble.
Very few times had Glorfindel ever been in Turgon’s private study. Normally, Turgon preferred to hold meetings in his rooms, or in the council chamber, or even outside in the courtyard. Glorfindel had passed by the door that proclaimed to be Turgon’s by the crest upon the door many times, for it was located directly next to the lending library. “Some lending library,” muttered Glorfindel as he passed. “Will not even let someone check out a book on alchemy.” Glorfindel shifted Indelion into one arm and knocked on the door. He noted that the crest was still Turgon’s old heraldic symbol; the king had taken a new one since his brother’s death. Someone called for Glorfindel to enter, and he did.
The first room was tiny, and Turgon’s secretary, Carynien, smiled at them. When she saw little Indelion with Glorfindel, her smile brightened. “Oh, look at who came along with his papa. How are you today, Indelion? Oh, are we happy to see me?”
Looking pleasantly surprised, Glorfindel said, “I was unaware of the fact that you had been introduced.”
“I think everyone knows your son, the way Meleth goes around proudly showing off Indelion. She does the same with Nenniach, too. That lady is a doll, let me tell you, and absolute gem.”
“I know,” agreed Glorfindel as he brought Indelion to Carynien’s outstretched arms.
The secretary insisted on a few rounds of peek-a-boo and in giving Indelion a hard sugar biscuit for him to chew on before giving him back to Glorfindel. “You can go right in,” she said, turning back to the work she was doing. “Egalmoth is in there already, and I expect that Turgon will be in as soon as he is back from meeting with Galdor and Ecthelion. I do not know what is taking him, but it was a breakfast meeting. He probably helped himself to more pancakes without recalling that he was on a schedule.”
“Thank you.” Glorfindel opened the door with one hand, keeping Indelion close to him with his other arm and hoping his son would not get the idea to grab at anything expensive. Priceless vases and delicate tapestries decorated the large room. The ceiling vaulted two stories, and an enormous chandelier hung from the pinnacle of the dome.
At one end of the room was the harpsichord, which Egalmoth was sitting at and playing quite intently. The thickness of the walls prevented the sound from leaving the room unless the upper vents were opened, in which case everyone on the first floor of the tower and most of the second could hear what was being played. It was one of Turgon’s few joys, and scant others were allowed to touch the expensive instrument. Egalmoth was one of the fortunate ones, having been the one to teach Turgon how to play.
The music mesmerized Indelion at once, who contented himself with listening and chewing on the end of Glorfindel’s nearest strand of hair, apparently tastier than the biscuit which he had dropped on the floor twice since they came in. The blond took a seat near the harpsichord and waited until Egalmoth finished the song to exchange pleasantries. Indelion whined and reached out toward the polished keys.
“I think he wants you to play another song,” explained Glorfindel as he settled the bag onto the floor and tossed the ruined cookie into it for fear he would otherwise leave it littering the king’s chamber.
“He has exceptional taste in musicians,” said Egalmoth with a wink. He turned around to face the keyboard again. “What shall I play?”
The sound of the door creaking open made them look to the entrance. “Good, you are both here,” said Turgon, closing the door once again, and locking it. He walked toward them and paused when he laid eyes upon Indelion.
“I am sorry, sire, I had to bring him, the nanny was going out, and—“ But Glorfindel did not need to finish.
“I am glad you did. I have not had a chance to see your son since just after his birth. My, he does look an awful lot like you, Glorfindel,” remarked Turgon. He pulled his favorite chair over by the arm so that the elflords did not need to get up. “What is his name again?”
“Indelion,” replied Glorfindel.
“Indelion. A good Vanyarin name.” Turgon reached out his hand, holding his finger towards the elfling. Indelion grabbed hold of it tightly and giggled, for this was a game he played often with his father. “He is strong. No doubt he will make a good soldier some day.”
“Thank you,” said Glorfindel, beaming at the compliment.
Drawing his hand back, Turgon relaxed in his chair. “On to business, then. I need your help in fixing something… a problem that my brother created.”
“Of course,” answered Egalmoth without a second thought. Glorfindel nodded uneasily.
“I am glad for your aid in this matter.” Turgon sighed. “It is going to be a difficult process, but I want to track down the remaining unclean who are in the city.” He kept his gaze on Indelion, either refusing or unable to look at his captains as he said this.
Glorfindel blinked, hiding any surprise he might have had with this request. “I should think that by now, most of them have been discovered.”
“One would think,” answered the king. “But, you are mistaken. I know that there are others yet hiding in our midst, and I will be rid of them in Gondolin.”
“What do you propose we do about it?” asked Egalmoth, so eagerly that it instantly made Glorfindel sick.
“Find them. Bring them to me. I shall deal with them.” Turgon focused on one of the tapestries and added, “It was a shame, what I had to do to Enerdhil, but it had to be done. Are you both up to this task?” Egalmoth nodded, and Glorfindel reluctantly did as well. “Excellent. Thank you for your time, Egalmoth. Glorfindel, I would like a further word with you.”
When the door was shut again, Turgon stood up and pulled his chair to Glorfindel’s so that he could face him. “I know that when you were younger, you were confused by Gildor’s advances. It was a mistake that you made that you have since corrected. Am I right in thinking that?”
It was not Glorfindel’s plan to have to lie to Turgon, but there was little else to do. The only thought he had was how telling the truth would affect his son’s future, and he nodded gravely. “Yes, it was a mistake, one that I am not proud of. I can assure you, it will not happen again.”
“Good.” Turgon clasped his hand on Glorfindel’s shoulder. “I knew I could count on you.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
((much thanks to Aleabeth and May for their help with figuring things out for this chapter))