The Princes of the Noldor: 8. Turgon

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8. Turgon

Much had he lamented the dim candlelight, for she was meant to be seen by the brilliance of Telperion waxing. Yet, the gentle glow only enhanced her pale hair and natural radiance. Perfection - almost. She laughed as he rearranged her hair. "There!" he said. "Now, you look as if you have stepped out of Findaráto's sculpture garden."

"Away with you! You only want to leer at my bosom."

"It is a very fine bosom," Turucáno said gravely, "the finest in all Eldamar."

"And have you seen so many, my lord?"

"Now, I am caught! Either I shall admit to callow excesses of youth and be diminished in your esteem, or I must deny such excesses and diminish the compliment."

"Then we shall leave it there, for I am not one to reject a compliment from my husband." She smiled saucily, but her grey eyes narrowed. "You do not think your father will reconsider?"

"No. In truth, I am of the same mind. I have such plans, Elenwë! Once Melkor is defeated, the hither lands await those with the courage to tame them - there, I might realise what I have only dreamed and drawn, a Tirion of my own design."

"When you speak so, I want nothing more than a realm of our own. Yet I am also wise. Shall Melkor be easily defeated? My father and all the Vanyar doubt that it shall be so."

"Easily defeated, no. Yet grief, not jewels, moves Finwë's younger sons. It was not Ingwë Ingweron who was murdered at Melkor's hand," he said grimly. "I daresay the Vanyar would be of another mind, were such the case."

"Their answer would be no different - the hope of the Vanyar rests in the Valar."

"And yours?"

For a long moment, she took thought, and he agonised in wait of her answer.

"My hope rests in you," she said at last. "But take care, Turucáno Nolofinwion! Should you leave me a fool's widow on some distant battlefield, my pleas to Námo shall not beg for your swift release."

"Let it be so! For it would be a grave thing to be parted from you even a day, and I would find no healing in Námo's house knowing that I have brought this sorrow upon you."

"Such grand words! It is well that I shall be at your side to make order of your realm, and see to it that your subjects have more than great towers and spires of fancy to feed their bellies."

"Without you, my subjects should suffer a far more grievous fate than you imagine. Great towers would I build indeed, but the very stones would weep, and my realm itself would be but a shrine to memory."

"Your poor subjects! You would seal them in a gilded tomb, my lord. I shall-." What she should do he never learnt, for the bed-curtains moved and a dark head poked through the opening.

Elenwë moved to cover herself, but the intruder only laughed.

"My dear sister, your modesty is of no avail, for I have seen our cousin's sculptures."

"I knew I should not have let Findaráto talk you out of your clothes," Turucáno muttered.

"Findaráto could talk Oromë out of his horn," his brother scoffed. "I might have known I would find you here. Atar waits on your answer."

He looked at Elenwë and said, "You may tell him that we - the three of us - will follow him."

She rapped him sharply on the ribs. "You gave me to believe that the decision was made, and I must choose between you and Aman!"

"That is a bad business," Findecáno agreed.

"You are no help to me," Turucáno glared over his shoulder. He turned to Elenwë. "I gave you only the choice I myself faced."

"But I could not have decided elsewise," Elenwë said, her voice more tender than outraged.

The same hand that had delivered the blow to his ribs had found its way to warmer parts. "Your intentions hold no malice, I hope."

"Malice," she said, lifting a pale, slender leg to sit astride him, "would be greatly at odds with my intentions."

"Right," Findecáno said briskly. "I will tell Atar of your decision and leave you to...grapple with the consequences."

He got no answer.

This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.

Story Information

Author: erunyauve

Status: General

Completion: Work in Progress

Era: 1st Age

Genre: Drama

Rating: General

Last Updated: 03/29/08

Original Post: 02/26/07

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