Four days into the journey, some of the soldiers became restless. Mostly it was those who served under Voronwe, for they were not trained to the same level that the others were. It came to little surprise that it was one of them who first questioned the directives of Turgon.
“We eventually want to end up northeast. Correct?”
Although something told him not to say anything, Glorfindel replied anyway. “Yes, that is the plan.”
The soldier, who had directed his complaint to one of his fellow marchers, looked a little surprised when he tilted his head up to view the captain riding between the battalion of the Golden Flower and the one that was led by Voronwe.
The soldier smirked cockily and asked, “Then why are we traveling southwest? Apparently someone must have broken their compass.”
Glorfindel rolled his eyes. It was more and more evident to him that the company would have been better if the count was nine thousand instead of ten. “If we travel straight through Dorthonion, we will easily be spotted by the enemy and then stand no chance of keeping Gondolin secret. Secondly, if we travel along the Sirion, then we will not deplete our reserves of water so quickly. Third, Turgon wants to go this way. If he wants to make a complete trek around all of Arda going in the opposite direction in order to get to Angband, then that is what we do.”
“And if he had made the decision to cut straight through, you would have given me three reasons why that was the best course of action,” taunted the soldier. “You should just admit that Turgon is wrong in this case. We would save time if we went straight through, and arrive faster in order to join the battle faster, and perhaps, win this war. If we arrive late, we are of little use.”
“Turgon is our king; it is our duty to follow him.” Glorfindel noticed that his voice was getting louder the more upset the soldier made him. “This matter is closed.”
But the soldier decided differently. “How can you follow him so unerringly?”
“Then why are you here if you think he is incorrect?” countered Glorfindel without answering the question.
“I do not fight for Turgon. I fight for Fingon, and for Maedhros,” said the soldier flippantly.
“So you are fighting for some shiny rocks instead of your own freedom. Lovely.” Glorfindel pulled on the reins of his horse before the soldier could spit out an answer to him. He galloped through the space between Voronwe’s and Egalmoth’s companies and brought his mount back into a trot beside Celebrimbor and his steed. “Perhaps you could find the time in your busy schedule as herald to control your troops.”
“Why? They are harming no one, and besides, it is amusing to watch him fluster you.”
“Control him, Celebrimbor, or I will have him flogged for treason against King Turgon.”
Celebrimbor looked past Glorfindel to the group who had insulted the golden lord. “That might be just as amusing to watch,” mused Celebrimbor, but he nudged his horse down the line and dismounted in order to speak to the soldier in question.
Since he had already moved away from his troops, Glorfindel decided to stray further in order to check in with Ecthelion on the other side of the moving formation. When he slowed his horse beside his mentor, Ecthelion grinned and said, “Whatever that young one was saying was not making you happy, was it?”
“Not at all,” admitted Glorfindel, but he spoke no more of it. “Do you happen to know how long we are going to march in this direction?”
“Until we hear rumors of mutiny. Turgon wants to make it look as if Gondolin is further south than it is.”
“His plan is sound, but if we cross the Sirion, then we risk leaving tracks.”
“Good point,” considered Ecthelion. He made a motion to his herald and then nodded toward the front line. “We should take council with Turgon in regards to this.”
Ecthelion and Glorfindel reached the king to find that he was already deep in discussion with Rog and Penlodh on the same topic. The king paused the conversation as Ecthelion and Glorfindel coaxed their horses to fall in step next to Rog. “What news do you have from the back of the company?”
“Voronwe’s troops are ill at ease with how far we are venturing from our target,” Glorfindel informed him. “More importantly, Ecthelion and I have come to voice our concerns with crossing the Sirion as well.”
“I fear we may not be far enough away from Gondolin to keep it hidden when we approach Angband,” said Turgon, “but I respect your council. Make ready to camp and we shall journey again under cover of night.”
---
When they began their march again, the moon was gleaming in the sky and the evening insects were swarming with delight around the elves and horses. Morale dipped low, and it was up to the heralds to raise it up again. They grouped together at the heart of the marching army, and after a few minutes of discussion, it was Erestor and Mirdirin who emerged from the group to rally them with a few military cadences. One of the qualities of a good herald was a loud, clear voice, and it was time for them to prove that they had the lung capacity for the titles they had been given.
“I don’t know what you’ve been told!” called out Erestor well over the sound of feet marching to the same rhythm. The majority of the company answered him back in unison. He let out the second line louder than the first. “Goblin pussy is mighty cold!”
Mirdirin was shaking his head and grinning by the time the company finished chanting the line, and shouted out to them, “We don’t wanna see Namo’s Halls!”, which was followed by, “They say Morgoth has no balls!”
Erestor shouted out the next pair of lines, which were “Balrogs grow up twice as tall; but balrog dicks are rather small!”
“You speaking from personal experience, captain?” called out one of the soldiers near the front, but there was no time for response as Mirdirin shared the next cadence.
“Dwarves may just be little runts!” Mirdirin shifted his gaze to Erestor, and those near them could see that the younger elf was trying hard not to laugh. “But Gothmog came from Morgoth’s cunt!”
“Alright, alright!” The entire company, including the king, was laughing hysterically, and they had to bring the troops to a brief stop to keep from tripping over each other. “Can we please try something a little less vulgar?”
“Your turn, Galdereth!” shouted Mirdirin.
Galdereth had gone into the midst of Penlodh’s soldiers on either side of the company, hastily teaching them the rewritten verses of a popular marching song. Using his hands to count them off and keep the beat, two thousand soldiers of the company began to sing for the amusement of the others.
We Elves go marching one by one – huzzah! Huzzah!
We Elves go marching one by one – huzzah! Huzzah!
We Elves go marching one by one
Enerdhil stayed home, he is no fun
And we all go marching on
To Angband
To aid King Fingon!
“Oh, this should be good. Ten verses gives them a good chance to insult all of us,” Rog informed Turgon as the song continued.
We Elves go marching two by two – huzzah! Huzzah!
We Elves go marching two by two – huzzah! Huzzah!
We Elves go marching two by two
Ecthelion stops to play his flute
And we all go marching on
To Angband
To aid King Fingon!
We Elves go marching three by three – huzzah! Huzzah!
We Elves go marching three by three – huzzah! Huzzah!
We Elves go marching three by three
Galdor wants to sleep in a tree
And we all go marching on
To Angband
To aid King Fingon!
“Trees are very nice places to sleep in!” Galdor playfully called out to Penlodh’s troops.
We Elves go marching four by four – huzzah! Huzzah!
We Elves go marching four by four – huzzah! Huzzah!
We Elves go marching four by four
Salgant would have been saddle sore
And we all go marching on
To Angband
To aid King Fingon!
Of all of the verses, the fourth one led to the most laughter, muttered discussion, and additional jokes.
We Elves go marching five by five – huzzah! Huzzah!
We Elves go marching five by five – huzzah! Huzzah!
We Elves go marching five by five
Voronwe’s boys might not get there alive
And we all go marching on
To Angband
To aid King Fingon!
We Elves go marching six by six – huzzah! Huzzah!
We Elves go marching six by six – huzzah! Huzzah!
We Elves go marching six by six
Glorfindel’s hair is now full of ticks
And we all go marching on
To Angband
To aid King Fingon!
The mere insinuation made Glorfindel reach up and scratch his scalp to the laughter of his battalion. Glorfindel had to remind himself that it was only a silly song and not really meant to hurt anyone’s feelings, but he still felt like having a chat about it with Galdereth later.
The seventh verse featured the line ‘Egalmoth is such a funny thing to neven’; the eighth was ‘We hope that Duilin can shoot straight’. This was followed by ‘The glare from Rog’s head is making us go blind’, and finally, ‘If we don’t stop singing, Turgon will replace us with men.’ Once everyone knew all of the words, the full company sang through it a few more times until Turgon waved his hand to signal he really might replace them if they did not stop.
They marched in an odd silence for twenty or so minutes before Turgon cleared his throat and belted out the following cadence:
“They say that orcs once were elves!”
Half of the company answered his call, while the other half smiled in amusement that their king was joining in.
“But I say the orcs can go fuck themselves!”
Amid the laughter, Erestor shouted out, “Oh, so you can use profanity in yours, we just cannot use it in ours?”
“When you are king, Erestor, you can come up with the offensive cadences. Until then, I reserve the right to save those for myself!”
---
The general mood of the company when they finally stopped to rest eighteen hours later was more relaxed despite the fact they had marched longer and harder than they had previously. Now that they were turned in the proper direction, the drive to continue was stronger.
Many of the soldiers had bedded down to rest immediately upon establishing camp. Not even food could keep them awake. Some, however, either suffering insomnia or forcing themselves not to sleep yet, were gathered away from the river to listen to the singing of their fellows. There were a few who had flutes or small harps with them, but the majority of the music was accompanied by the clapping of hands and stomping of feet.
Some of the songs were soft and lovely ballads, while others were rowdy and almost coarse, though it is hard for elves to sing the rough drinking songs that their dwarven friends might have taught them. Erestor was coerced into leading them in one of these, and he was somewhat glad that Glorfindel was not awake by then, for he would have had to have explained just how he had learned such a song.
Elluil was one of the more surprising singers of the group, for it was learned that he often wrote his own songs to sing to himself but rarely if ever did he share them.
“Go on, sing a few. Sing one, at least,” prodded Mirdirin.
“But you might not like it,” he said as he wrung his hands.
“Or, we might love it,” countered Erestor.
Elluil sighed. “Alright, just one.” His decision was met with cheers, and he began to sing for them:
Once I met a maiden fair
Stormy eyes and golden hair
She loved me and I loved her all my life
Her father never would approve
Her mother knew not what to do
So she never had the blessings to be my wife
So we lived in sin
in Gondolin
Where the city is kept well hidden
And the eagles fly o’er it overnight
Everyone within
gets treated like kin
Protected well by Thel and Fin
We knew it all would work out all right
Well, her father wandered in one day
Which meant, of course, to my dismay
There was no way to get him to leave
As soon as he discovered us
He began to put up such a fuss
I begged him to give her a reprieve
For we lived in sin
in Gondolin
Where the city is kept well hidden
And the eagles fly o’er it overnight
Everyone within
gets treated like kin
Protected well by Thel and Fin
We hoped it all would work out all right
Next her mother rode into town
And when her feet hit the ground
She announced that everything would soon be changed
She met a bachelor on the way there
A perfect match for her daughter fair
And so a marriage had been arranged
But we lived in sin
in Gondolin
Where the city is kept well hidden
And the eagles fly o’er it overnight
Everyone within
gets treated like kin
Protected well by Thel and Fin
We wondered if it would work out all right
Her daughter said, ‘That is quite kind,
But mother, I have made up my mind,
I am staying here and rightfully, am his
Though I need to ask, just for fun
If I were to marry the other one
Would he agree to adopt all of my kids?’
Because we lived in sin
in Gondolin
Where the city is kept well hidden
And the eagles fly o’er it overnight
Everyone within
gets treated like kin
Protected well by Thel and Fin
I wondered if there was going to be a fight
Then we were married the very next day
Hastily and right away
But that is not the best part of this anecdote
For we had no daughters, not even a son
There were no elflings, not a one
Just a really big field where we were raising goats!
No longer in sin
in Gondolin
Where the city is kept well hidden
And the eagles fly o’er it overnight
Everyone within
gets treated like kin
Protected well by Thel and Fin
We always knew it all would work out all right
“That was rather cute,” said Duilin amid the applause. “How many of those songs do you have written?”
“Oh, a lot. It is a sort of hobby, I guess,” admitted Elluil.
“How would you like it to be an occupation?”
Elluil’s eyes widened. “Really? No, no, you are joking, I am not that good.”
“You would be surprised what some people bring me. I have learned over the years that most of the time, if I am told that something is great, then it is crap, and if the songwriter or playwright is unsure, it is likely brilliant.” Duilin nodded to himself about this. “It has potential, and if you have other things like this, there might be a way to construct a script around them. Erestor?”
Erestor nodded in agreement. “I could see us performing something like that. Maybe a musical about reasons why people came to Gondolin, or, perhaps something that centers around one family, and have different stories about each member of it. Perhaps these parents have more than one child who will not listen to them, and they go around to try to ‘fix’ things, but as it turns out, the children know a little more than they do about it. Or something like that; my head is tired and keeps chanting things about Morgoth’s balls and Morgoth’s cunt.”
“And that, folks, means it is time for bed!” announced Egalmoth as those who had managed to remain broke out into laughter. The soldiers were ushered off to their respective camps, and those who were on patrol took up their positions.
The rotations had remained the same, so once again Duilin and Erestor were assigned the same area. They walked their portion of the perimeter, one watching the area where the company rested, the other watching the opposite way. Each time they reached the end of their area, they would turn and swap so the one who had been watching the soldiers would now be watching the woods, and vice versa.
It was very boring work without conversation, and so they talked quietly to pass the time. “I have been wondering about your dragon encounter in Nevrast.”
“Dragon encounter?”
“The one that was slain there, and then everyone ate it,” Erestor reminded Duilin.
“Oh! Right. The dragon encounter.” Duilin nodded. “Tasty dragon.”
“Right,” replied Erestor. “So, when I asked Ecthelion about it, he said he could not recall any dragons ever being there, and that several people had asked him about it in the last few days.”
They made their turn to walk back the other way. Duilin shrugged. “Perhaps it was when Ecthelion went with Turgon to scout Gondolin. Or, maybe Ecthelion just forgot.”
“I also inquired with Egalmoth, Penlodh, and Rog. None of them remember it, and Rog thinks you are an idiot.”
“Rog thinks everyone is an idiot,” said Duilin.
“And the part about there not being a dragon?”
“Of course there was no dragon,” Duilin finally admitted. “Something like that, everyone would know about. I have never actually seen a dragon, either.”
Erestor frowned. “Then why did you tell Glorfindel you did?”
“Because I am a storyteller, Erestor. I make things up sometimes. Most people would have laughed and realized that there was hardly any way for a dragon to end up in Nevrast. Unfortunately, Glorfindel takes everything so seriously.” Duilin sighed when he heard Erestor make his discontented growling noise in the back of his throat. “I will tell him tomorrow it was just a joke. Will that satisfy you?”
“That, and your promise not to do anything like this again to him.”
Duilin smirked. It suddenly occurred to him, though it might be fun to tease Glorfindel, it was far more entertaining to listen to and watch Erestor being protective towards an elf he claimed was no more than a good friend. “Maybe I should ask him tomorrow when I tell him that the story was fake if he wants me to stop this. He might enjoy my false tales.”
“I can tell you right now with certainty that he does not enjoy these types of games,” snapped Erestor.
With his hand held up for peace, Duilin said quietly, “Then I will make that promise to you, for an even exchange.”
Erestor narrowed his eyes. “What would that be?”
“I want you to admit it.”
“Admit it? Admit what?”
Duilin smiled. “I want to hear you admit how you feel about him.”
“What? Who, Glorfindel?” Erestor became immediately defensive. “He is a very good friend of mine, and—“
“No, not that.” Duilin stopped, and Erestor stopped beside him. “I want to hear you say the truth, even if you will not admit it to him, or even to yourself.”
Erestor chewed on his bottom lip. “I do not know what you are talking about.”
Duilin leaned forward and whispered, “I want to hear you say that you love him.”
Total shock, and panic, registered on Erestor’s face. He took a step back to gain a steady stance and regarded Duilin with wide eyes.
“Hmm. Maybe I was wrong.” Duilin shrugged and began to walk on. “I suppose I will talk to him tomorrow.”
“Alright.”
Duilin turned around. “Sorry?”
Erestor was staring at the ground, his lips moving as if he was practicing what he wanted to say. He took a breath and swallowed, closed his eyes and said very faintly, “I love him.”
They stood in uncertain silence before Duilin spoke. “And, I promise never to say or do anything ever again that might hurt him in any way, so help me Eru.”
Briefly, Erestor nodded, but did not look at Duilin.
“We should return to the patrol,” said Duilin awkwardly after a few moments more. Erestor nodded in agreement.
As they started to walk again, Erestor’s gaze drifted over the camp. He caught the sight of one elf in particular, in repose, golden hair blown over his cheek by the breeze. It was only a brief glance, and then he looked away. He knew if he watched for much longer the desire to protect Glorfindel would be so great that he would break his oath to Turgon, desert the army, and take Glorfindel with him, for the thought had been in his mind for many years now that no matter where he went, if it was within Glorfindel’s power, he would follow.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Big thanks and hugs to my husband (aka Smaug in the fanfiction world) for helping me with the soldier's chants. It was fun bantering them back and forth *smoochies*