Beyond Canon
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Time passed. In all other places, the darkness grew, choking the people of Middle-earth with doom and despair. There were tidings of happiness in some places: The birth of Fingon’s son, Ereinion, was a blessing and joy even in the midst of near hopelessness. Doriath continued to prosper, though they remained cautious as ever to those from the outside. Only in Gondolin did the changing of the world go unnoticed, for it was that Gondolin remained unnoticed, though not entirely unknown, by the enemy.

---

Glorfindel awoke one morning rather early. The sheets on the other half of the bed were discarded in a clump on the floor. It was a sure sign that Erestor was not only awake, but had risen hastily. The blond stretched his arms and left the room, only to find Erestor occupying the couch. There was a bird perched on his shoulder and a small note in his hands. “Is something wrong?”

“Finrod is dead.”

Glorfindel paused and a shiver snaked down his spine. “My uncle.”

“Yes.” Erestor said it as if only realizing this the moment it was said by Glorfindel. “Sorry. You probably remember him a bit.”

“I knew him as a child. He seemed really nice, really intelligent. I never became very close. I suppose, maybe a little, he was the only male adult who seemed better than my father was. He treated me better. But I only knew him a little while.”

Erestor said nothing in response.

“Were you close to him?”

The message was rolled up again, more out of something to do than real need to do so. “I was close to Artanis, and she was very close to him. He was over so much while I was with her that I half expected him to move in sometimes. We had many conversations that began before dinner and only ended when she prodded us to the breakfast table.”

“Then it is I who am sorry for your loss. The most I really remember was sitting on his lap while he read me a book or being allowed to pluck his harp even after my parents told me not to touch it.” Glorfindel felt a sudden sway and braced his hand upon the wall. “Does Gildor know?”

“I am uncertain of that. The message only just arrived, and the bird was exhausted. We have not received word from the messengers. He might know of his own accord.”

“I... I need to go and see Gildor. When my parents died, I had no forewarning before the news came. How I will explain knowing this is a mystery to me, but-“ Glorfindel shook his head as the note was held out to him. “I cannot reveal your correspondence with Saeros.”

Erestor stood up and took the note to Glorfindel. He took hold of Glorfindel’s wrist and lifted his arm, placed the note in his palm, and closed his fingers tightly over the small scrap of paper. “The note is from Artanis. You need not say how it arrived. It is more important you have the proof to show him.”

Glorfindel dressed quickly and then hurried down the steps of the tower, note clenched tightly in his hand. As he reached the ground and began to walk in the direction of Enerdhil’s house, he loosened his grip for fear the ink might run.

Only now did he read the message, written in the flowing script of his aunt, with stains from her tears on one side. The words were so simple, and yet her sorrow was still evident somehow.

Felagund’s spirit resides in Mandos.
A werewolf. He perished in defeating it.
Send only your prayers for him;
condolences unnecessary.
~G

On the back there were words as well, and Glorfindel read these as he passed through the lesser market and arrived in the plain where many of the artisans and metalworkers, including Rog and Maeglin, lived. Enerdhil’s workshop was one of the furthest back, set off from the others with a fence surrounding it, less to keep anyone out and more to keep the dogs he owned in. Glorfindel nearly walked right into the fence as he attempted to read and walk. He stopped and leaned against the high barrier in order to read the rest.

He spoke highly of you,
as I am certain you know.
There was talk of you constantly.
I truly believe he wished for you
as his brother-in-law instead.

Glorfindel was already aware of the fact that Erestor’s one-time lover had married another, but it seemed more believable now that the proof was here before him. No names were mentioned; none had to be. Celeborn was the one Artanis favored; obviously, her brother did not agree. The message on the reverse angered Glorfindel. It was as if she was taunting Erestor in some way, as if to say, ‘do not expect your praises to continue – and by the way, you still will never have me’. He rolled the note up to prevent further wear on it, and as he pushed the gate open muttered, “He is too good for you anyway.”

Since Fingon’s absolution of the dreaded rule that denied public freedom to those who wished to love others of the same gender, Gildor had made himself a nearly permanent fixture in Gondolin. Instead of spending most of his time in Doriath with brief intervals in the hidden city, he ventured out only rarely to collect news and messages and bring them back. It meant that more often, Voronwe was sent out on duty as the messenger, while Gildor spent his days in the marketplace watching street performers and his nights in Enerdhil’s bed.

In hopes that it was still early enough to find Gildor at the House of the Mole, Glorfindel hurried toward the house. The building was set into the side of a hill so that the jewelers could directly enter the mines through a guarded room. The front of the house was guarded as well, but Glorfindel’s status allowed him to pass by without being questioned.

Servants swarmed about, readying the house for the day. Glorfindel stopped one of the maids and gained directions on where he would find Gildor, finding that breakfast was just being served. She seemed very worried that he did not wish to wait until after the meal, but did not stop him from going to the room. He hesitantly entered the private dining chambers used by Lord Enerdhil and his family. At once the conversation stopped, and it was evident to Glorfindel that in this house everything happened in a precise manner. “Excuse me,” he said when Enerdhil folded his hands and looked rather upset at the intrusion. “I have an important matter which I must discuss with Gildor.”

“Go ahead,” said Enerdhil tersely.

Glorfindel waited for Gildor to stand up and perhaps suggest some place they could go to talk, but Gildor only sipped from the goblet of water and watched Glorfindel quizzically. “The matter is a rather private one,” Glorfindel awkwardly explained as someone in the room coughed.

“If it is not important enough to tell him here and now, I am sure it can wait.” Enerdhil made a dismissive motion, and the butler moved around the table to usher Glorfindel out.

“Sir, I must ask you to leave,” whispered the butler as he gripped Glorfindel’s upper arm.

Glorfindel hooked his foot around the bottom part of the doorway as he was being forced out in order to gain a little time. “This is important! Just because I do not want to announce in front of everyone—Gildor, it concerns your father!”

The butler paused and glanced over his shoulder, but Enerdhil pointed once more toward the door. Glorfindel shook the insistent servant off and stomped into the hallway, shaking his head. He looked down at the note in his hand and then back at the dining room. As the maid he had spoken with when he entered passed him by, he pulled her aside, handed her the note, and gave her instructions as to where it was to go. She looked unsure, but after reading it, nodded and entered into the dining room.

The next minute Glorfindel spent pacing the hallway as the maids and pages began to whisper among themselves regarding the disturbance. It was not long after that Gildor exited the dining room and approached Glorfindel. “Is this true?” he asked, holding up the note. Glorfindel nodded and Gildor’s hand dropped to his side. He gazed blankly down at the floor, blinking furiously in an apparent attempt to keep from appearing emotional. “Thank you for telling me.” Gildor offered the piece of paper back to Glorfindel as the doors to the dining chamber burst open.

Into the hallway stumbled the maid, tears streaming down her face that was red with embarrassment. “This is what happens to those who are disobedient!” Enerdhil emerged on her heels, chasing her further away. “Away with you, wench, and never return!” He shifted his attention upon Gildor. “I thought I told you not to leave.”

Gildor looked Enerdhil up and down smugly. “You think you have some right to make me listen to you?”

Enerdhil flinched, but his wrath reemerged quickly. “In this house, I am law.”

“You are nothing,” replied Gildor flippantly. He still held the paper between two fingers, and raised it up with a smirk. “Would you like to know what this says?”

For a moment, it looked as if Enerdhil wanted to chase Gildor off the same way he had run off the maid, who had already been escorted from the house. “What does it say?” he asked. Those who had been dining in the room had filtered out to stand in a crowd behind their lord.

“To paraphrase, you are now addressing the King of Nargothrond.” Gildor crossed his arms over his chest. “I expect you to treat me as such.”

Everyone was quietly buzzing between one another with the news, while Gildor and Enerdhil attempted to stare each other down. Sensing it was the best time to leave, Glorfindel reached over and easily pulled the note away from Gildor. He backed his way to the door, and nearly tripped over the maid who was sitting on the ground outside the door, sobbing miserably.

Glorfindel knelt down and placed his hand on the maid’s back. “I think, once you have had time to reflect, you will find that this is a blessing and not a curse.” He helped her to stand and tried to take a step forward, but noticed that the guards who had ignored him earlier were now standing before him with swords drawn. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Sorry, sir,” replied one of the guards. “You may leave. She is not allowed to go yet.”

“What? You cannot hold her here; she has done nothing, and your lord has cast her out.”

The soldier nodded. “We are aware of this. However, while Lord Enerdhil has released her, he still holds ownership over all she has.”

“If you would please say that again, without the riddle.” Glorfindel put an arm around the maid, who was whimpering and shaking with fear. A crowd was developing around them and Glorfindel glared at the guards to hurry them.

“She needs to leave her uniform here,” explained the other guard.

“What is she supposed to wear?” wondered Glorfindel.

The guard shrugged. “That is not our concern.”

Glorfindel shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Does someone have something she could borrow for a few hours, just to get her out of here?” he asked the crowd. More people began to mill around, waiting and perhaps hoping to see the embarrassing display that was sure to follow. “So, is this the way he keeps you in his service? The promise of such a punishment -- to be made to walk naked through the streets if you leave?” Glorfindel looked around, searching for ideas, as Gildor stepped out of the house. The other ellyn looked quite perturbed as he joined Glorfindel and the maid. “Trouble with your lover this morning?” asked Glorfindel.

Gildor had a dark look on his face. “He refused to allow me to gather my things. I must see Turgon.”

“Good to know he does not discriminate.” Glorfindel placed his hand on Gildor’s shoulder when he noted that Gildor had managed to retrieve his cape. “I need your assistance for a moment.” He explained the situation, and his plan, to which the maid at first tried to refuse. In the end, however, Gildor used the cape as a shield between the onlookers and the maid. It took several minutes before her dress was deposited on the doorstep and a few more before she was dressed in the shirt, pants, and boots that Glorfindel had been wearing.

The focus of the crowd was no longer on the young maid, but on a mostly naked and very comfortable looking Glorfindel, who sported a loincloth only. He offered his arm to the maid and led her away from the house, with Gildor following their path.

---

“Thank you for having the consideration to obtain clothing before you came here,” commended Turgon. Glorfindel could not help but smile and shrug. “Now, regarding the matter of this young lady, am I to understand she has been reemployed?”

“Yes, but not by Lord Enerdhil. She will be teaching in one of the schools we are planning for the future,” explained Glorfindel. “Until that time, she will be trained by some of the current staff and will assist in the orphanage.”

“Excellent. I appreciate your willingness to aid in this situation, Lord Glorfindel.” Turgon rubbed his brow and looked at Enerdhil. “I am not happy with what I am hearing about your house today, Lord Enerdhil. I am fining you for your behavior towards your staff and will be reassessing your policies in three months. If there is no improvement, I may fine you again.”

Enerdhil said nothing, but once Turgon turned to Gildor, the Lord of the House of the Mole focused his look of anger upon Glorfindel. Glorfindel examined the dirt under his nails and pretended not to notice Enerdhil.

“As for you, my cousin, I am sorry to hear of such a loss. Permission is, of course, granted for your departure.”

“Thank you, cousin.” Gildor bowed to Turgon, something he had never before done and likely would never again, before leaving the room.

“We are adjourned.” Turgon stood and left the council chambers, and the lords began to leave the room as well.

When Glorfindel exited into the corridor, Gildor pulled him aside. “I wanted to thank you again. It is not easy to defy Enerdhil, and I know how this may hurt your standing in the council.”

“I could not make you wait to hear such news.” Glorfindel put his hand on Gildor’s shoulder and said, “I am truly sorry for your loss.”

Gildor swallowed hard and nodded. “I have something to ask you.” Glorfindel waited until the rest of the council had filed out and then nodded. “Would you consider leaving Gondolin?”

“I... well, it is not quite possible for me to do that,” Glorfindel reminded him.

“Actually, I think it might be. I am leaving here and going to a place where I am unknown to proclaim myself as their king and ruler. It might not go over very well, and if I had an army I think I might do better.” Gildor smiled. “You have an army; I have a kingdom. It is a great opportunity. For both of us.”

Glorfindel bit his lip. “I... I do not know, Gildor, I...”

Lowering his voice, Gildor said, “We could... rule together.” He placed a hand upon Glorfindel’s chest and twirled the fingers of his other into his ex-lover’s hair. “I know what you have been up to, sweetheart. I feel so bad for you whenever I see you having to pretend like you do. You can bring them with you, even Erestor, I would not mind.” Gildor’s words were soothing and aimed to pull Glorfindel into a trance. “Imagine, darling... freedom from all of this.”

For the briefest moment, Glorfindel considered what Gildor was offering. It seemed so perfect and so obvious and so simple, but in reality, Glorfindel knew it would not be. “I am sorry. I have to stay here.” He detangled Gildor’s hand from his hair and held Gildor’s wrists between them. “There are responsibilities that I have here. I...” Glorfindel shook his head and let go of Gildor’s wrists. “I wish you all the best.”

Gildor nodded and leaned down to kiss Glorfindel’s cheek. “I suppose I came to my senses about all this too late. Maybe you can forgive me sometime.”

“There is nothing to forgive.”

For a moment, it looked as if Gildor wanted to say something more, but he eventually nodded and patted Glorfindel’s cheek. “Take care of yourself.” Gildor turned to walk away. He gave Glorfindel one final glance before he disappeared around the corner. Glorfindel sighed and counted to a hundred before heading home. He knew if he encountered Gildor again he might not be able to refuse him a second time.
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