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Chapter Text

Spring of the year 509 of the First Age, the northern part of the Echoriad: 

“Maeglin! Wait on us, princess!”

The female rider ahead of the two Lords of Gondolin did not seem to have heard Salgant, for she encouraged her horse to continue. Maeglin, the second Princess of Gondolin and niece to its King Turgon, had wanted to explore more of the mountains in the hope of possible finding new seams of iron and her uncle had requested that two of the Lords of Gondolin followed her, since he seemed to think that she could be hiding a plan to escape, and she had responded by choosing Rog and Salgant, who she trusted the best of the Lords. 

“This is far north of Anghabar, I have to say,” Rog commented, referring to the iron mine in which the House of the Mole under Maeglin extracted iron for the Hidden City far behind them. The princess, black of hair and eye color, looked over her shoulder for a moment. 

“I wanted to get away from Gondolin and Tumladen for a few days at least, and why not claiming a search for a new possible mine as a good reason? It is not like I have left Tumladen since I first arrived here!” 

Maeglin did not mean to snap at them, but she was deeply annoyed by how overprotective her uncle was towards her, rarely allowing his niece to leave the valley where Gondolin was placed. 

“And you have a perfectly legal reason to be cross with the King, young miss, you are not your late mother reborn and have a very different personality than her. Yes, it was wrong of your father to kill her like that, or aiming to try to slay his own daughter, but the King really should not have executed him and made you a orphan within a day of that event. And that is something which makes it difficult for you to trust him.” 

Rog was among the oldest Elves living in Gondolin, someone who had been alive at the Great Journey of the Elves, and had enough bitter life experience to be able to guess the motive between Eöl's unbelieve actions towards his own family, despite never meeting the Avari Elf before Aredhel had shown up in Gondolin with her daughter 109 years earlier.

“Oh yes, a very great impression, killing your own brother-in-law in front of your niece whose father he is,” Salgant muttered for himself while standing up in the the stirrups so his horse could step upwards to follow the small mountain road a little easier. 

Suddenly, Rog stopped. There was a strange sound in the distance, if his ears did not betray his old fighting instincts. 

“ Orcs! ” he warned, and all three Elves drew their weapons. Rog and Salgant may not be wearing armour, but Rog's warhammer beside the glavie and the chain whip used by Salgant could still be deadly. Maeglin herself had a smaller sword in her hands, made to suit her feminine built and weight by Rog himself as a secret gift after overhearing Maeglin complaining about getting out of shape with her weapon training. While they had their crashes as a married couple, Eöl and Aredhel had been in agreement that their only child should at least know self-defense.

“This way!” 

If it was just a small group of orcs which had started a fight between themselves for any random reason, they could hopefully kill all of them and ensure that Gondolin was still hidden away from the eyes of the Dark Lord. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At arriving there, it seemed indeed like the orcs had been in a fight not even half a hour ago, and it was pretty easy for the three friends to kill off the remaining ones. 

“Well, that was a nice way of getting rid of my anger against uncle. I should be able to greet him next time without sounding like I want to murder someone,” Maeglin smiled as she used a semi-clean cloak from a orc to clean off the blood from her sword. Behind her, Salgant checked on the still bodies by beheading the orcs with his glaive, just in cause someone tried to fake their death and trying to escape once they had left. 

“Hmmmm?” Rog wondered for himself, taking a closer look at some of the now headless bodies, “Odd, that is marks from the claws and teeth of a warg. A really big one, I must say.” 

“Maybe it was suffering from rabies and ended up attacking the orcs it was obeying otherwise?” 

Maeglin had been taught about that horrible illness among animals from the shamans living in Nan Elmoth, and recalled how her own first kill had been done in self-defense against a such sick animal while screaming for her parents to help her. The Elves was fortunate to avoid the illness, but being bitten was always taken seriously and never treated as a joke. 

“Perhaps. It did give us less work to do, so perhaps we can return home in peace.” 

It was in that moment as Maeglin noticed something strange in the thin grass at her feet. Kneeling, she picked up what seemed to be a throwing dagger, still with reasonable fresh blood on it. And there was something else at the dagger hint as well. Holding it up, against the setting afternoon sun to reveal hair strands, she saw a much unexpected colour: 

“Dark reddish hair….?” 

Then she looked around again, for a closer look. There had been a fight here before she, Rog and Salagant had arrived, but what had really happened? And the blood spots on the rocks seemed to almost form a trail of some kind… 

She followed the trail, towards a set of rocks that led down to a small ravine where a river should be running, if she mentally remembered her maps of this area right. Looking over the edge, Maeglin saw something which alarmed her greatly: A male elf, if she saw right, dressed in ill-matching pieces of armour, the owner of the dark red hair, which covered the face from being seen. 

“Rog, get me the climbing rope you took along in the saddle bag this morning, right now! And Salgant, start making our cloaks into something to pull up a injured person with!” 

There was a fear in her voice that revealed the seriousness of the situation, even without the two Lords seeing what she had seen. 

“Right away, miss Maeglin!” 

Maeglin herself managed to climb down quickly, and ran over to the immobile Elf who had fallen facedown just outside the very edge of the river. Any closer with the bleeding head, and it would have been a death by drowning because the injured Elf was unconscious from the fall. The dead body of a warg was in the river not far away. 

“ So much blood….! ”  

Against her own wishes, Maeglin once again had that mental image of how her father's dead body must looked like after the fall, broken against the cliffs. 

“Dead or alive?” Salgant's question brought her back to the present, thankfully, and she carefully turned the head just a little to feel on the pulse on the neck, which was next to impossible with the iron collar around the neck. 

She could feel the pulse just narrowly, The healers in the mine was going to have a full night of work if they wanted to save this unknown Elf. A weak groan between the pale lips, and Maeglin saw a very short glimpse of a black-coloured eye before it was closed again. 

“I need help to move him, I do not want to aggravate any internal damage.”

Even if this Elf was not someone from Gondolin, Maeglin refused to leave him here to die, alone and in a great pain. Her uncle might forbid contact with the world outside his Hidden City, but this was not a normal situation. This was about life or death.   

Chapter Text

Late summer of the year 509, Gondolin: 

It was one of the hottest days so far this summer, and Maeglin felt herself longing for the cool comfort of the tall trees in Nan Elmoth, which blocked out the sun completely. Really, why did her uncle have to build Gondolin in white marble, so the light was reflecting and the streets becoming unable to walk on without any foot protection?   

“Maeglin!” 

She stopped walking at the sound of someone calling her name. It was Glorfindel, the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. 

“What is it, Glorfindel?”

The heat was not the only thing to make her irritated today, Idril had also managed to get words from a trusted palace maid that Turgon probably had started planning to try to arrange a marriage for his niece behind her back. Or at least playing matchmaker in the hope of pushing Maeglin towards a candidate who Turgon found suiting for being her husband, but someone Maeglin herself had a very different view on. In fact, Idril's spying maid even had found out that Glorfindel was one such candidate, being trusted by the King himself.  

“You have been absent from the plans to celebrate the Harvest Festival later this autumn. Surely you can not be that busy in the forge, when the whole House of the Mole can fix the heavier work…” 

“My father taught me to be a blacksmith and my skills will go rusty if I do no work. How can I see my parents in the eyes if I ends up in the Halls somehow and they learn about that?” Maeglin replied in a icy tone, knowing that Glorfindel was not one of those people who thought of Eöl as a good husband to Aredhel. Judging by his badly hidden reaction at the mention of her parents, she had struck right. 

“S...still, you are a royal princess, the niece to the King! Surely you would rather spend your days with embroidery and with daughters of the nobility….” 

By the stars above, he really could not hide his Vanyar origins and their views on how a daughter of high social status should act. Especially a lady of royal blood was hoped to become an example of good behavior, and it was another area where Maeglin crashed awfully with her cousin Idril. Not that any fault laid on Idril, they got along well enough but their personalities simply was different. 

“Silk will only get dirty with soot or getting burned in the forge if I wear it there. And I have difficult to find a fitting subject to talk with the noble daughters about. Besides, I am perfectly fine with not entering courtship either”

Apparently it was a foreign thought for him about that a unwed lady in her age had no plans to marry, especially as Idril would celebrate eight years of marriage just next year, and Eärendil most likely was a result from the honeymoon with Tuor.  

“Surely you can't be serious about refusing to become a wife and mother! You are one of the most sought-after maidens here at the royal court, anyone who marries you will become related by marriage to the royal family itself...”

“NOT EVERY SHE-ELF WANTS TO BE WED BEFORE SHE TURNS 200 YEARS, YOUR OBSOLETE IDIOT!!” 

Now it almost turned into a shouting match between them, and people was bound to notice soon if they did not manage to fix their disagreement quickly. 

“Alright, you seem to need a talk with your uncle.” 

Before Maeglin could protest, he grabbed her wrist and and started to pull her along towards the royal palace. 

“Do not touch me!”   

Then a stone was thrown from somewhere from above, from a roof, and flat out knocked Glorfindel so hard in the back of his head that he was forced to let go of Maeglin as he fell forwards. She took the escape to escape, and ran off in a different direction as a slightly stunned Glorfindel sitting up on the street. Then a second stone was thrown at him, straight in the face.

“Ow!” 

A shadow was hinted between two roofs above him, but as Glorfindel was bent down to avoid blood from his bloodied nose on the clothes, he did not notice it. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

However, Maeglin had a good guess to who that had thrown the stone on Glorfindel and deliberately took a longer walk along the streets, even stopping at her favorite bakery to buy some fresh bread buns, and then even a few fresh fruits at a fruit stand at a smaller market she passed.  

“Might as well give him some small reward for the help, even if he did disobey our request to not leave the chamber…” she thought, thinking of person she had to keep secret from Turgon no matter what. 

Soon enough, she arrived Rog's home. Maeglin had been here enough many times now that the house maids did not question why she went straight to a huge chamber with a associated garden where they had placed him at Rog's home. As she had almost expected, the male Elf was resting against the tree as if asleep. But his deeper breath betrayed that he must have been running across the house roofs to get back here before her. 

“I know that it was you who threw that stone earlier…. Rûsa.” 

In response he opened one eye, revealing half of the black eyes which was, if possible, a even deeper black than her own. But the shape of his eyes revealed that his lineage was from a different Avari clan than the one Eöl had been born into, the same with the dark red hair Maeglin had never seen on a Elf before. 

“He...hurt you…” 

It was nothing else than a hoarse whispering, but there was a reason for it. The almost fatal fall four months earlier, had damaged his throat, not helped by the horrible slave collar of iron around his neck either. Even right now, there was a red mark around the throat, showing just how tight the slave collar had been against his skin. 

And Maeglin could not blame Rûsa for thinking that Glorfindel might turn violent against her, being a slave in Angband meant that he had witnessed a lot of violence against both himself and his fellow slaves, so there had been a very good reason for his instinct to prevent something from happening to her against her will.  

“You burnt your skin again in the sun by running after me, that is what happens if you do not stay in the shade,” Maeglin scolded gently at seeing that Rûsa's pale skin had gotten a painful red tone from the merciless summer sun. Opening a pocket bag in her belt and picking up a jar with cream she used herself because she had inherited Eöl's sun-sensitive skin, she started to spread out the soothing cream over his face. As always, the V-shaped scar on his left cheek stood out, not because of its size but because it was hard to not notice. 

“....thank….you…” Rûsa managed to whisper, barely audible. At least he was slightly less suspicious against her now, or that violently aggressive against the unknown Elves as he had been in the first few weeks after being saved, a sad side effect of his horrible life as a slave.

After wiping off the cream from her hands with a rag she always carried along if she needed the cream, Maeglin gave him the small basket with bread buns. 

“You need to eat more, even if you have added in weight since we saved you in the ravine,” Maeglin explained, mentally shuddering at the memory of how malnourished Rûsa had been under all that poorly-fitted armor and threadbare rags to clothing,”Please do not follow me this time, I will go straight home to my own home.”  

He did not say anything, but Maeglin could see in his eyes that he had understood. Speaking a basic Sindarin had helped him understand what they said to him, especially after that he first had spoken a almost incomprehensible mix of broken Sindarin and the other languages spoken by the slaves in Angband.   

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Rog returned home a hour so so later. By that time, Rûsa had fallen asleep on top of the bed instead, curled up into a ball with his back against the wall as if expecting a attack. 

“I hope that he have not been out running on the house roofs again. His climbing is dangerous, not only for the risk of that he could be found out by someone who would bring him to the city guards, but also because of the damage he suffered…”  

One of Rûsa's legs remained almost straight even in the sleeping position, the right leg. It had been ruined in the fall because of that the warg had fallen over him first somehow before rolling further down into the river in the ravine where it had died and the metal brace around the whole shin, fixed over knee and around the sole of the foot, had been a attempt from Rog to stabilizing his ruined leg once it became clear that Rûsa refused to enter the Halls of Mandos yet. 

“At least he does not feel like we are trying to keep him in a cage like a wild animal…” 

That was a small comfort, at least. 

Once he had checked on his “special ward” as the code name for Rûsa was, Rog sat down in his office and wrote a letter to Salgant where he made a list of what the food for Rûsa should be this week. 

A lot of people dismissed Salgant as a food-lover who ate too much, but in reality he was a gourmet and he had not been afraid of, with some help from Rog, trying to find out the best food to give their unexpected guest. He only hoped that Salgant had run into Glorfindel, the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower could be pretty careless with his comments about Salgant's body weight and as a result, was not one of the people Salgant exactly would call a friend. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time:

In fact, Salgant had witnessed what had happened between Maeglin and Glorfindel, and currently was busy in giving his fellow Lord a scolding without sweetening the words. 

“....and for Eru's sake, do not touch Maeglin without her consent like that! What if someone of her own workers from the House of the Mole had seen it and believed that you were about to harm her for screaming at you?! And the King and Princess, how do you think that they would react at someone accusing you for acting in a inappropriate manner towards Maeglin?”

Glorfindel wanted to protest that he had not done anything improper, but the mention of Turgon and Idril made him quiet. For all of that he always tried to act like a gentlemen, Maeglin was one of the few ladies in Gondolin who had never been charmed by him, and sometimes even gave him a look as if he was just a bug on her working boots, unworthy of being close to her. 

“Maybe if she stopped working in the forge and actually started to be around other noble-born ladies more often, she would not be viewed as being so difficult to even offer a simple dance to…” 

This time, Salgant forcefully reminded Glorfindel of that while he was plump, not all of it was overweight from eating too much and actually muscles. Being shoved backwards, it was the second time this day that Glorfindel landed in a less than graceful manner.  

“Watch your mouth, or you will find out that even a pretty flower will be crushed without mercy if someone does not care where they step.”

This was one of things Salgant hated about Gondolin being shut off from the outside world: sometimes ugly rumours could be created and spread by people who suffered from boredom, using only a tiny bit of fantasy to slowly start something horrible that could affect innocent. Maeglin was already viewed in a less than good manner as a possible wife, for reasons out of her control.

“You can forget to be allowed inside my eating places for food, then,” Salgant commented, referring to the restaurants and pubs he owned across the city. To be ported from them, was a sign of his displeasure and the staff would really obey the orders from their master. 

“What?! ” 

But Glorfindel did not get to protest, as Salgant turned around to return home, more or less ignoring him. He had a secret meeting with Rog and Maeglin again about Rûsa this evening, and he wanted to be a welcoming host for them at the time they arrived. 

Chapter Text

It was some purring sound which woke Rûsa up. And a small weight on his chest.     

“You again?” he wondered, still half-asleep, at the sight of a now rather familiar cat laying on top of him, purring in satisfaction over finding a Elf that would not remove it straight away.    

Footsteps was heard outside the door, but Rûsa had learned to listen after the special footsteps that belonged to different people, for hardly anyone used to go the same way as another. Based on what he heard, it was Rog who was coming closer. 

“Rûsa? Are you awake?” 

He was used to the daily visits by Rog because the other Elf had managed to explain that Rûsa needed to be hidden or he, Maeglin and Salgant would get into massive trouble if he was found out by someone who did not belong to their households. 

Rûsa moved the cat out of the way and changed his position in bed before sitting up very slowly, otherwise his ruined leg would start hurting again if he moved too quickly. It had not proved to the greatest of ideas to run along the house roofs earlier, which he had found out on the way back so it would seem like he had been in the garden the whole afternoon when Maeglin arrived. 

“I have something for you, which I know that you will enjoy.”

Rog had brought along something most people would not think much off, but for Rûsa it was a huge treasure: Watercolours and brushes.  

Because of the damage to his throat and getting a such serious speech impediment that he could almost not speak at all, they had needed to find a way for Rûsa to communicate. Being a former slave and showing hints to that he possibly had bene living in Angband his whole life, it was unavoidable that Rûsa suffered from illiteracy. But he had proven himself much interested by painting, and since it was less likely that he would attack someone with it, Rog had taken time to more or less teach his new ward about how to use it. 

“Oh, you have done more drawings?” 

It seemed like Rûsa had tried to make a drawing of Maeglin on the canvas which was up on the easel, catching her facial features and black hair very well. Despite that he likely was a beginner in painting, it was clear that Rûsa showed some great promise of having a talent to be an possible artist. 

Rûsa did not protest when Rog requested him to do a specific set of movements to see how his recovery went, they needed to see how his body healed after all. Neither one was that much surprised when his body started to protest against the movements, it had happened a lot over the past weeks. 

“As I already said before, the injuries from the fall did not just ruin your leg, your previous malnutrition back in Angband have also damaged your body previously. Your skeleton are actually brittle from the lack of proper food you must have been served your whole life, your body strength is based on how that you are thin yet tough, but there is a limit to how much your body will be able to stand the amount of similar injuries in the future. Had you been a soldier under my command, I would not allow you to enter a battle again because it would be too dangerous…” 

Rog felt how the thin body under his hands suddenly was trembling. But not in fear, rather that Rûsa tried to hold in his tears.

“....no...battles…?” 

Even if Rûsa struggled to say the words, Rog could hear the disbelief. And understood how hard it was to truly believe, he had once been in a similar situation so long ago. He carefully sat down on the bed beside Rûsa, not touching the red-haired Elf without his consent.   

“Yes. As long as you remain here in Gondolin. you will not have to fight for your life again. While it is not wise to stop training just because your life now have changed, you need to find a way that is kinder to your body, and adjust to how your body now is limited.”

Rûsa hid his face in his hands, but there was no doubt from how he was breathing that he was crying from both disbelief and a tiny amount of relief over learning that Rog was not viewing him as a failure. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The next day:

Maeglin had spent most of the morning to work in the forge, and today she would meet with Idril for a quick talk about how to make a counterattack towards Turgon and his matchmaking ideas about her future. 

“While I would like to get married one day, I want the whole courtship and wedding to happen with someone I like and not a person someone else chooses without even asking of what personality and characteristics I would like in a future husband….” 

She recalled how Eöl had never insisted on Aredhel doing housework unless it was to clean up her own messes in the house, and how he actually had encouraged both his wife and daughter to do things people here in Gondolin viewed as unfeminine. So yes, Maeglin knew that she had gotten a unusual taste in a possible husband, though not the same as her mother.  

Idril had given Maeglin a invitation under the disguise of having tea together, something which they actually did from time to time if neither one was too busy with their duties in everyday life. It was a while ago since the last time, for summer tended to mean a lot of feast invitations to someone among the nobles and other social events to take place outside in fine weather outside the city walls.

“Any ideas on how to deal with this...new idea uncle have gotten his head into?” Maeglin asked while she took some of the offered nut cookies from the plate. Idril seemed a bit unsure about it, which was not really so strange, for Turgon had once tried the same with her in the past before she made it clear that unless he allowed her to choose her future husband herself, there would be no son-in-law at all. Maeglin herself would not be so lucky, as things looked like at the moment.

“Oh, I really wish that I would suggest anything else than trying to act as if you might already be courted….or at least be in the beginning of one, you know, that fragile stage when it might only be a few love letters and offers to meet up somewhere in a nice place.” 

Aredhel may have refused a such idea, but Maeglin could understand the logical part of that suggestion. If she might be courted by someone already, even if it may not be long, it could delay whatever Turgon planned for her. 

“Only one problem, I know that there is a lot of gossip whatever I like Rog or Salgant more.” 

Idril made a faint smile. She knew how much Maeglin hated to be at the court, only showing up at grand events like a begetting-day in the family or a memorial ceremony for the more distant relatives they had lost over the years. Trying to make Maeglin show up at a ball was next to impossible, not because she was bad at dancing but because she disliked how the balls was the primary social events for young unwed people to meet and mingle, along with dinner parties, a soirée or the teather.  

“Friendship can often be mistaken for romance for those who are desperate to create a bit of gossip. But I agree that it can be harmful as well.”

“And people wonder why Ammë found my Ada a bit of fresh air when it came to finding a possible husband. I would not be surprised if their marriage was a attempt to shock uncle Turgon and forcefully show him that her taste in a spouse was vastly different from his own,” Maeglin muttered loud enough for Idril for hear, but the princess did not comment on it. This was hardly the first time Maeglin mentioned the difference of her upbringing to how things was in Gondolin.      

In the end, they had not really found a solution apart from trying to make Turgon focus on his direct family and then try to make him avoid any mention of marriage whatever Maeglin was around. Besides, he loved to spoil his only grandchild so Eärendil would be a good way to draw attention away from Maeglin for a while.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Mainly to get herself thoughts on something else, Maeglin returned to the main building of the House of the Mole and personally packed together a picnic basket with some ham and cheese sandwiches, some fruits, and muffins alongside a filled waterskin.

“We may not be able to bring Rûsa out in the open during the day, but just changing to a different house garden and have a small picnic might be nice for both him and myself…” 

She was right. Rûsa did not understand the meaning of a picnic, but he was happy for the food nonetheless, and Maeglin welcomed his silence after yet another taxing day in the forge.

“You still have some water colour spots on your face.”  

Wetting her rag, Maeglin cleaned off his face so the dried colour would not be mixed with his food as he ate. The colours was not safe to get into the mouth, because some of the more bright ones was made from toxic origins like white lead. 

“....are you….angry?”

That made Maeglin stop for a moment, wondering what he meant. Then she realized that he must have read her body language.   

“Not on you. There is other things I am not pleased with.” 

Rûsa frowned actually, his black eyes not focusing on her but Maeglin could imagine his attempt to understand. He was perhaps not educated in what most Elves would take for granted, yet he often showed signs of being smart about things he knew about. 

“The...golden one?”

Oh, of course he would not know Glorfindel's name. 

“Not him, another Lord who I am related to by my mother. We have a disagreement about my future.” 

She felt sorry for Rûsa, who likely had no idea what she really meant. Only for him to suddenly say: 

“If they...tries to... breed you, escape when...you can. Before...anything happen…” 

Ok, that was a very awkward thing to say to a female and something that would make many of the court ladies faint from how inconsiderate it sounded, but Maeglin realized that in Angband, marriage must be something foreign for those who had lived their whole lives as slaves, and that consent may not be well known in relationships. Of course Rûsa might view her situation like that. 

“If anyone tries that, I will prove that I am not afraid of gelding them with this.”

She held up her smith hammer, almost always carrying it in her belt out of habit from her life before Gondolin. To her surprise, Rûsa actually took the hammer and tested its weight in his hands. Then he threw it upwards in the air, catching it surprisingly elegantly in his left hand at the same time as he was spinning around on the heel of his good leg and then handing it back. 

“Good weight. Will be strong hit.”  

Maeglin managed to keep her blushing in control, but she understood it to be the closest thing to a compliment Rûsa could give her for now. 

Rog, who naturally would not leave a unmarried lady alone with someone, had seen it all from the upper window where he was watching what Maeglin and Rûsa was doing. 

“Seems like her possible suitors may have a unknown rival before they even tries to court Maeglin with permission from the King.” 

Not his problem anyway, and perhaps this was the wake-up call Turgon needed to understand that in his family, he truly was the only one with Vanyarin-inspired morals and view about marriage. Both his father Fingolfin and Anairë was truly Noldor in words and behavior, his older brother Fingon had always hinted to his eventual warrior skills at a young age, his sister Aredhel always a rebel who could be found outdoors. Even the youngest brother Argon had never been anything like the bookish middle brother who could came off as fastidious and hard to please, especially for those who did not share his interest in academic work. 

“Well, it is only good that Maeglin have found someone she likes to be around, even if it only a new friend she wanted to help.  

Chapter Text

Training grounds close to the House of the Hammer of Wrath: 

“Left! Right! And swirl around!”          

Ever since her first arrival to Gondolin, Maeglin had tried to keep training herself in self-defense with the sword she had forged with her own hands. Anguirel, the black blade which Eöl had forged from an iron meteorite, was a too painful reminder of her father and it was also too difficult to handle for someone of her body build, originally meant for a strong male Elf like Eöl. 

But this was yet another area where she and Turgon crashed. The King did not want his niece to even hold a weapon after seeing her sparring against the workers of her own House, and more than once the same soldiers of the House of the Mole actually had needed to forcefully remove people who were suspected of spying for the king's eyes about Maeglin.

“Guard your back more to the right, Maeglin!” Rog barked at her, being present today to see if there was anything she needed to fix in her battle style. He was a stern teacher, not showing any mercy whatever it came to just words or showing how to do a movement correctly. 

“I feel like I am back in the forge as a apprentice….”

It was then she heard something new. The sound of heels touching against a wall repeatedly, as if in impatience. Rog seemed to know who it was. 

“No, Rûsa. Your ruined leg will not thank you for any crazy movements you might attempt to do,” Rog commented over his shoulder without even looking away from the soldiers who was busy training. 

And indeed he were up there on a small wall between two of the houses, covered under a hooded cloak to protect him against the sun, there was some footsteps in the wall not far from where he was sitting and watching the training ground.  

“Rog is right. Your injuries is mostly healed but you would only set back months of recovery if you tries to do something before we know that it would not be good for your leg,” Maeglin added in, looking straight into the only other known pair of black eyes here in Gondolin apart from her own. Rûsa honestly looked annoyed, but he did not move from his place.   

Once the training was over and she had washed herself off in the guest baths along with a change of clothing, Maeglin went back outside to see if Rûsa was still there or if he had returned inside. 

“Hm?” 

While he clearly did not disobey the order to not do any “crazy movements” that could ruin his recovery so far, Rûsa was instead holding two of the more  lightweight swords in both hands, moving slowly while keeping full focus on what he was doing. 

“So he is not a beginner warrior….that could explain a lot of the older scars on his body, they must be from battle training with the orcs in order to teach him how to fight quickly in order to either avoid injuries or another form of punishment…” 

However, Rûsa's focus was broken just as he turned around to avoid hitting his head on the low branch from a tree, and Maeglin, who had her back turned to him because she thought someone called her name, heard a strange sound that could have been mistaken as a very strained meowing from a cat, because of the damage to his vocal curd. The reason for his strange reaction was a spider crawling along one of the swords towards his hand.    

“Stand still,” Maeglin commanded, recalling how Rûsa had actually frozen in terror, paling so much to almost fainting, once before at spotting a small spider running across the chamber where he had been in earlier during his recovery. Similar reactions over the following months had revealed just how deep his  spider phobia. 

Picking up a small stone, Maeglin adjusted her throw so the spider was thrown off the sword, into the grass somewhere. Some color returned to Rûsa's face in  relief that the spider had disappeared.  

“Can you try to move?” 

Sometimes his terror of spiders made Rûsa freezing in his movements under the first few moments after seeing one, so Maeglin had to gently push him slightly in order to make him move.  

“...I…” 

“Do not apologize, you are hardly the only one around that is scared of spiders for whatever reason.”

It was unlikely that Rûsa would have the same focus as before, so he might as well finish. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Turgon was not in a good mood. He had no idea how Maeglin seemed to have learned about his plan to find her a appropriate husband, but surely she had to understand that the longer she remained unwed, the greater the risk of her falling into some kind of scandal similar to Aredhel?!

“Are it that hard to make her understand that her social reputation is already bad enough as it is!?” 

Damn Aredhel and her inappropriate taste in men, never caring for how many marriage offers she had ruined for herself in her youth by running off with their Fëanorian relatives into the woods without a chaperone to ensure that she did not ruin herself before marriage and then returning home with muddy clothing as if she was but a mere commoner. And just how could she fall in love with a such Elf that would not hesitate to kill both his royal wife and the daughter born in the very questionable marriage?

“An Avari, of all people, to end up married to!”  

For all of that he loved his sister, Turgon had always wished that she could be just a little more acceptable feminine in her behavior, often feeling ashamed of Aredhel showing up fresh from a hunt in the woods. And there had been so many fine nobles at the royal court of their grandfather Finwë in Tirion, who could have been a fine husband to the daughter of Fingolfin. 

“Why did my sister have to make Maeglin harder to married off, just because of the blood from her sire?” 

He had to find a way to set up a meeting at least between his niece and someone of her suitors, controlling the surrounding so Maeglin could not escape as soon as it was the earliest allowed time to leave a event at court. The sooner Maeglin got married and busy with the responsibility of being a mother, the better.    

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Even if Rûsa was about the same height as herself, Maeglin could guess that he might have been a little taller, had he only gotten proper nutrition as a child. Among the Noldor, very tall females was rare, she only knew of princess Galadriel, still keeping her royal title by marrying a prince from Doriath from what Eöl once had heard and lady Maedhros, the only two female cousins to her mother. 

“By giving up her Queenship so my grandfather could take the crown and lead as High King over the exiled Noldor, she also gave up the right of being addressed as royalty for her whole family, though that never seemed to be important for them in Valinor, according to what ammë said…”  

“Maeglin, I think Rûsa have enough of that cream on his face against the sun,” Rog suddenly spoke, and she realized that she had been adding on a little too much in her absentmindness. Yet Rûsa simply looked at her without a word. Was it because his skin had been so horrible dry before? When she, Rog and Salgant had arrived to the healers who had their base at the iron mine because the worker could get caught in a accident of some kind, it had taken them several long baths just to remove all the dirt and other nasty things off his body, and the water had needed to be changed several times. 

“Sorry, I was lost in my own thoughts.” 

This time, she managed to make it the right amount so Rûsa would would be protected from the sun.

“To see just how pale his skin actually was….” Maeglin thought, recalling how even Eöl had seemed healthy despite staying away from the sun, and yet neither he or Maeglin had been that pale despite living under the sun-blocking trees of Nan Elmoth and that their skin was sensitive to the sun. Rûsa had been unhealthy pale, needing to always cover his skin so he did not suffer those painful sunburns.   

Because of his ancient age, Rog was not bind to what was slowly starting to happen between Maeglin and Rûsa. Neither one was fully aware of it yet, but Maeglin would likely be the one to realize it sooner, thanks to actually having daily contact with other Elves where she could see the signs with her sharp glare. Rûsa would need a deeper enlightenment of what love meant and how many different forms it could take, but there was no doubt about the way he looked at Maeglin: 

With careful guiding, there was a high change of that Rûsa would not just have a crush on Maeglin, but possibly going deeper if their feelings was the same. 

“That would be a fine lesson for Turgon, showing that is Vanyarin-based view on proper behavior and suitable marriage matches is not shared by everyone in his surroundings, or even those who was his own close relatives. Aredhel tried to make him see the faults of such expectations, and Maeglin will never bow down to a such role as a passive wife whose only goals is a suitable husband and children to raise.” 

Rog had seen many different types of females over his long life, and knew that Maeglin was one of those She-elves who had a specific type of husband they wanted to marry, even if they were not aware of it themselves. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

During the afternoon Maeglin was at one of those tea parties that was obligatory for her to attend, no matter how much she tried to minimize the times she actually appeared as a guest. 

This invitation had came from Egalmoth, Lord of the House of the Heavenly Arch and written by his own hand, with the request that she would be present mainly to avoid the rumours that she was shunning the upper class sociality for minging with the commoners and working class instead, because of her upbringing. 

“This is so a waste of time…” 

Maeglin hated to spend time with the nobles of Gondolin. Those who had been alive from before the city was built, she could at least speak with about what they missed, but those who had lived their whole lives in the closed-off city without even knowing what they had never been taught about… 

So sheltered from the harsh life outside Gondolin that it was not even funny, in the eyes of the half-Avari princess who had lived her first eighty years of life with knowing Gondolin only as a secret tale whatever Aredhel told of her family and life before marrying Eöl. Maeglin could not imagine many of them being able to easy adjusting to a life without the comforts found here in Gondolin and being safe from Angband. 

“At least Egalmoth paid me a big sum for crafting a new jeweled hair comb for both his wife and daughter as compensation for having to be here…” 

Looking at the clocktower, Maeglin mentally groaned in displeasure at seeing that she had to stay for over two hours more.

Meanwhile,  Rûsa kept himself busy by trying to finish the drawing of Maeglin he had done earlier, even taking time to try making it as a base for a actual portrait, like the ones in a gallery he had seen here in the house once he was strong enough to be able to walk without being held by someone else. 

“So easy it is to lose myself in the colours….I can find myself relaxing in a whole different manner than what I never did before…”

Ever since he had been saved by Maeglin, Rog and Salgant almost five months earlier, Rûsa had tasted the forbidden fruit that was a life of freedom. Granted, his injuries made it also likely that he might have switched the chains of a slave to another set, because Rog had revealed that no one from Gondolin was allowed to leave the valley where the Hidden city had been built, but at least the trio tried to make his new life better than what he once had lived with. 

“But it is still foolish by the King to not have a escape plan ready, for when they will end up being found eventually...Sauron always ranted about how Gondolin was the last Elven Kingdom Morgoth wanted to destroy….” 

Even if the city was well hidden and guarded against outsiders, Rûsa did not doubt that the Dark Lord would find it at some point. For no matter how carefully hidden, Morgoth would search and search until that his prey was found. 

But until then, Rûsa wanted to enjoy his freedom as best as he could. No doubt that Sauron would force him back in the training area with the orcs, despite his ruined leg, and he wanted to avoid thinking of that.  

The faint memories of whatever he had been conscious long enough to drink water or getting spoon-fed soup, as the fever fought a war inside his body. The inner fear of that he would find himself in the harsh care of orc healers, only keeping him alive on the orders from Sauron. 

But the blurry images of Maeglin, when he slowly had started to recognize her face, told him otherwise in the mist inside his mind. Even her most simple clothing was nothing a fellow slave in Angband would wear, and nothing about her had hinted to that she actually was a lady of high birth. 

Rog and Salgant had helped out as well, both with caring for Rûsa and giving him food dishes that were easily digested for someone who had been so ill from malnutrition, making sure that the healers of the House of the Mole did not make things worse for the secret patient under their care. 

But it was Maeglin who Rûsa had wanted to see the most, once he grew strong enough to be awake in longer periods. After all, she had saved his life by finding him, and he wanted to know who she was.  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

The next morning: 

As usual, Maeglin always had a headache the morning after being on a such party. She avoided alcohol because she hated the taste, and now was rather desperate to do something useful instead. 

“They are using too many sugar beets in the food here….just how much sugar was in those sweets the servants served alongside the tea...” 

Hopefully Rog was in his office, he always had suggestion for whatever she might craft in the forge if she felt out of ideas or just anything to escape whatever it was, troubling her mind. 

“....Maeglin?” 

Slightly uneven footsteps, and indeed it was Rûsa who came after her, slightly out of breath as his ruined legs seemed to be a bit stiff today, making it harder to walk faster. 

“Oh, Rûsa, is there anything you need help with?”

Even as he had learned a lot since his secret arrival, there was still times when Rûsa felt unsure about something and needed to ask. 

“....no….for you.” 

He was still gasping for breath as he gave her something, a canvas that had been rolled together in order to be easier to carry. When Maeglin rolled it out, she saw a watercolour portrait of herself from a side-view. 

“Did you….create this?” 

It was unbelievable. It was only about two months ago since Rûsa had discovered how to paint, when he was strong enough to move by himself again. But that he held a such hidden talent was amazing, for in this portrait Maeglin could imagine a promising future as a artist. If only he had not needed to be hidden from her uncle like this…

“Thank you, it is wonderfully made. You have done well on it even if you has never been taught by a teacher,” she smiled at him. In response, Rûsa pointed with a finger against his eye before making a sweeping move around the corridor, as if trying speak without words that he simply had watched his surroundings and how she must look like from different views. Well, that much was true, Maeglin guessed, given that he had difficult to speak and had to think differently due to how he had lived. 

With a nod on her head towards the garden, Maeglin offered him to come along, if he so wanted.          

Chapter Text

While she would have liked to teach Rûsa how to read and write, Maeglin was not sure whatever it was the wisest of ideas. He was smart, yes, but if there was a situation where he was recaptured and brought back to Angband, would not a suddenly ability in literacy possibly get him in even bigger trouble? 

“Damn, and here I only wanted to help him adjust even more, but at the same time...what if it is not that smart?”           

Rûsa naturally noticed the change in her mood, and after a few days with roughly the same result, he finally sought up Rog to ask what was wrong with Maeglin. 

“No, it is not your fault, Rûsa. This is hardly the first time Maeglin is in a such mood and tends to be a sign of that she is not pleased with a situation.” 

“Not pleased with...what?” 

Rog signed, this was going to be a tricky conversation. 

“Even as the niece to the King, Maeglin is actually having a limit to how much power she can hold because she is a female. Had she been born a male, like you, she could have been one of the most powerful Lords of Gondolin, alongside the King and his son-in-law, the husband of princess Idril. But due to being unmarried, the most power she holds is the ability to accept or refuse offers of marriage. Once married, her power will be over the household, like any other lady, even if she should be able to affect things in the city….”

It was really hard to find the right words, and to explain it in a way that Rûsa would understand without confusion. 

“....so if she marries….she will lose...her...current power?”

Rûsa struggled with getting all the words right, but Rog had a good guess on what he tried to ask. 

“Not all of it, but she will find herself in a position where her husband might control how much access to power she will get.” 

Clearly this information was something which displeased Rûsa, from the way his eyes became cold and hard for a long moment. It is a look he rarely shows here in Gondolin, but he had hinted to it during his long recovery. Rog was not surprised, while Maeglin was not that open around people, she still had people that was loyal to her and only her. 

“Come, you will need some new clothing today, autumn will give way for winter in yet another few months and you shall not have to feel cold because you are not used to the change of seasons.” 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

When Maeglin came over after spending most of the day in her forge, she too felt the change in the air. Autumn was still somewhat warm, but it would be a very different story in only a few weeks.  

“I hope that Rûsa will not fall ill as a result of the colder autumn temperature, given that Angband sounds very unlikely to have the normal seasons. Maybe I should search for some ginger plants and give it to the cook in change of Rûsa's meals? They say that ginger heats up the body, after all.” 

Yes, that sounded like a good idea. Elves normally did not get ill like mortals, but it was impossible to know if Rûsa was in enough good health to avoid that.   

“Greetings, lady Maeglin. Lord Rog has made something different with Rûsa today,” a housemaid told her. That was something new, indeed, since they until now focused on trying to make him rest and not damage his own recovery in some way.     

It turned out that Rog had brought Rûsa to the bathing chamber, the one he rarely used himself despite being the Lord of this home. A circular chamber made of marble like most other baths in Gondolin, painted to look like there was a forest on the wall, with the round water pool in the middle. 

Somehow, she should have expected the vision that met her;  

Rûsa was in the pool, his back against her and his hair looked a lot more brown now when it was wet, but he was still able of hearing and as result, turned around to face Maeglin. That alone had been enough for her to see the scars on his back, marks of a life he hopefully would never have to deal with again.  

“Your uncle would have a fainting fit out of pure horror if he ever heard about you seeing someone of the opposite gender in the bath,” Rog smirked from where he was enjoying the sunlight through a glass window. He, at least, had the decency to have a towel around his waist. 

“I have seen my mine workers dressed in only a loincloth in the worst of summer when they have to be in the mine, and Rûsa is hardly the first male I have seen naked after secretly helping out in healing wings with all the injured soldiers that returned after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears.” 

Maeglin started to undress behind a large sheet where her body would not be seen. This was hardly the first time she bathed here and she knew that Rog would not mention it. 

“In such situations you have to choose to either be prudish and risk someone dying because you are too fussy about seeing that person naked, or throw away all morals and simply get to work.” 

Rûsa had no idea what Rog and Maeglin talked about, but surely it would be alright with listening at least, even if he did not really know what they spoke off. None of them protested when he remained in the pool, though Rog stepped down with one foot in the water and pulled Rûsa up on the marble seat under the surface to give Maeglin some room. 

Maeglin had wrapped herself in a large towel, so even if it got wet while she was bathing, no one would be able to claim that she had shown herself naked for either one of the two males here.  

“I am starting to think that some clumsy maid in the household of my grandparents must have dropped my uncle on his head as a toddler.”

Recalling the rumours of how strict the lady Anairë was with her house staff to ensure that nothing like that did actually happen, with the lady even caring for her children herself with only the help of a nurse maid, Rog had to hide his laughter. 

“Your lady grandmother made a point of seeming to be the perfect court lady at the royal court of her eventual parents-in-law, but that was only a mask she wore, I recall hearing. It seems like she was a lady of strong spirit, though in a different manner than her daughter and younger granddaughter.” 

Idril had told Maeglin about the now very distant memories of their shared grandmother, the strongest one being of Anairë dressed in a simple yet elegant dark blue dress with silver embroidery while playing the harp outside in her garden. The older princess also suspected that with Turgon spending a lot of time at the royal court already at a young age, her father had grown accustomed to how his paternal grandmother Indis held on to Vanyarin etiquette despite marrying the King of the Noldor and rightfully should have adjusted to her new culture. 

“ And uncle acts like it is a big scandal to ruin my reputation in the marriage market here in his bloody city whatever I do something to remind that I am a Avari though my sire… ” Maeglin frowned, which made Rûsa move closer to her. 

And touched her neck, near the shoulder. 

“....soot...in...your hair…” he explained, trying to pick away the flakes where he could see them, taking care to not place them in the bath water but at the edge of the pool where it would stay out of the way. 

Maeglin was well aware of that this touch might be innocent for now, but it could also be misread as a more romantic one between lovers. She glared towards Rog, silently requesting his help if it became worse, for all of that Rûsa clearly meant no harm. 

“Rûsa, you need to come out of the pool if you want to get your hair dried properly. I also need to trim the edges of it with the small scissor.” 

Thankfully, Rog knew when to help. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maeglin turned out to be mostly right about how the change in temperature would affect Rûsa, since it took only ten days before he was stuck by a fever after failing to dress in enough layers of clothing for the cooler half of autumn. However, he was not the only one to have reacted on the outdoor temperature difference, according to rumours. 

“As much as I know that some people would be horrified if they heard me say this, but I am very grateful for that uncle Turgon got stuck with a relapse of feeling the cold from the Grinding Ice in his limbs.”        

She was referring to how many of those who had survived the Grinding Ice, never truly managed to stop feel that horrible cold in their bodies. Some, like Idril, were blessed by only needing an extra coat or mantle if they felt cold, but others like Turgon could become almost unable to move around much, no matter how many layers of clothing they wore and sleeping under a mountain of blankets in bed.

With Turgon restrained to his bed for a while and Idril taking over the royal duties to lessen the paperwork which would await Turgon once he had recovered, Maeglin would not need to think of his plans to find a husband for her.

“Here, Rûsa, the warm water with ginger should help you a little to feel warmer. I know that it is not fun having a fever, but you need to drink.” 

Maeglin had often watched her father Eöl make ginger tea for her mother Aredhel when she had been stuck by a relapse from the freezing cold of the Grinding Ice, and while it did not always help, Aredhel had always appreciated the kindness from her husband. 

“...strange taste…” he complained, making a face over how the ginger tasted since Rog had given orders to not give him any sweets with too much sugar. It there was a such horrible situation as that he ended up back in Angband, it would not do well if he had became used to things which was impossible to get hold of in that living hell.     

“I will give you some fruit pieces, alright?” Maeglin promised, knowing that he had enjoyed fresh fruit whatever he could get his hands on something. That seemed to please Rûsa, and her did actually drink the remaining ginger tea despite making a face again over the taste. 

When she saw how his eyes switched between the plate of apple pieces in his lap and herself, Maeglin took a few of them just to make him at ease. Rûsa could sometimes get anxious if he was the only one eating, because that could make him worry that the others were not fed too.   

~X~X~X~X~X~X

When Maeglin had left to return home, Rog spent some time with his ward to see how things was with him. 

“...why the King…want...her to...marry?” Rûsa asked, sitting up in bed with some extra pillows to support him.

Rog took a deep breath. 

“I believe that he want to marry Maeglin off to someone, is because he takes it for granted that a lady of noble birth wants to marry and have children. When Turgon grew up, he saw that happen to all the ladies his family knew as friends or allies in some other way and...well, I guess that with a sister who refused, he could not understand why she did not want to become yet another pretty face to be given to someone else in marriage, another wife to be showed off at dinner parties and all that by her husband. He doesn't realise that there is a...more unpleasant side to a such belief.”  

Rûsa made a hesitant movement towards his neck, his fingers almost touching where the slave collar once had been, as a unspoken question. 

“Yes. Aredhel was one of the females who saw it almost like being a slave to traditions, belief that punishes those who rebels against it. Her parents and other siblings did not mind what she was doing, but for king Turgon, his sister was acting in a immature way and I do not think he ever managed to realize how hurtful this belief of marriage was to her...”

“....or for Maeglin,”  Rûsa finished, his voice filled with darker emotions as he closed his fists in anger. He did not fully understand it all, but there was enough information for him to realize that king Turgon was in a really big need of getting a war hammer on his head, or something similar.

Rog had a good guess on what the younger Elf might be thinking, but he reminded Rûsa of how important it was for him to stay hidden, or there would be massive trouble for Maeglin, since she had been the one to find Rûsa that day and making the orders to bring him to Gondolin in order to save his life.

“It would be poor gratitude towards her if the King were to find out that she has broken his law about not bringing any outsiders into Gondolin.”

Rûsa still looked displeased, but he nodded in understanding before turning around in bed, and Rog did not mention anything else before he left the chamber. There was other work he needed to do.

Chapter Text

While originally not planned at all, Maeglin knew that it was impossible to hide that she had been seen going over to Rog almost everyday laterly. But it was not for business between the two leaders of the Houses who worked in the area of blacksmithing and mining, it was for something else.     

“Somehow...Rûsa feels like a safe possibility….”   

Sure, it was impossible to know his lineage outside what he had managed to snatch up from his fellow slaves, that he had a Noldo mother and a Avari father, just like Maeglin herself. Sure, he had no idea how old he was, or even the names of his parents, but somehow, that did not matter. 

“By basically being a blank page when it comes to lineage and social standing, it feels like he could be a safe choice for me when it comes to romance…” 

Of course, it had a terrible problem as well; namely that she would never be able to show him in public, at her side as her consort. As far as people in Gondolin would know, Maeglin were to remain unwed, someone who was impossible to find a bridegroom for. And Turgon was unlikely to allow her to be unmarried past a certain age. 

“Uncle and his damned ideas about that marriage is the cure to “fix” people viewed as problematic!” 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Today Maeglin had actually brought along something she had created in the forge, a item from her childhood, as she explained. 

“And by placing it over the fire here in the fireplace, the hot plate can basically turn into a mini-stove. I can show how to use it.”    

Rûsa paid a lot of attention to what she was doing by first melting a small amount of tallow before adding a few small pieces of cut-up meat and root crops, and was overjoyed when he got to test how it tasted.

“...very good...taste…” 

Maeglin smiled. It really was no trouble to please Rûsa, especially when food was involved. As long as he could eat without fearing to have the food taken away as punishment or having to starve on a minimal portion. He never refused any food he was offered, unless it was gruel which he even had refused to open his mouth for as a sign of not wanting it.    

“Would you like to try to roast the food too?” 

Rûsa clearly wanted, and managed to do it pretty well after a few awkward first tries when the food got stuck to the bottom of the stove. His cooking skills might not be best, but everyone was a beginner at some point, after all. 

As she enjoyed one of the last roasted carrots, Maeglin noticed that Rûsa looked at her again. A rather intensive one, though he likely did not mean it in a such way. It was hard to break old habits after all.    

“Are it the carrot you want?”    

He did not answer, but Maeglin did not find that anything strange after the past months spent with him. Requesting him to talk much was not nice, when it put such strain on his vocal cords. 

Then, even as he took the offered carrot between his lips before lifting his head slightly so it entered his mouth and he was chewing on it, Rûsa raised one hand carefully to touch the side of her face. 

Maeglin was mildly surprised by what he did, but then recalled Rog mentioning that he had enlightened Rûsa a little in the labyrinth world of romance and courtship. Perhaps it simply was that Rûsa wanted to test what Rog had told him, and with her almost daily visits, she would be a natural choice to try those things which he had not known before.   

“Kissing on the lips is not done first, no need to be in a hurry,” she said, a gentle encouragement but also reminding him to ask for her consent first. Rûsa obeyed, moving his hand to instead touch her hair, the fingers almost combing it when the braid was loosened. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

At the same time, in a different building:

“ And what are so funny about creating gossip about Maeglin not being able to choose me or Salgant as her husband? ” Rog asked in a icy tone, where he was seated so he was meeting the eyes of a smaller group of She-elves. None of them seemed comfortable to meet his eyes, trying to look at anything else in the room where they had been gathered. 

Since it was not exactly a secret that Turgon tried to push Maeglin towards the path of a arranged marriage with a husband that might not suit her at all, Rog had taken it upon himself to have a serious talk with some well-known ladies who enjoyed gossip a little too much for their own good. While originally not meaning any harm, that habit of creating gossip for the sake of some drama because of boredom, had gotten them into trouble before and Rog did not doubt for a moment that they were the roots of some very unpleasant things about Maeglin that rísked to reach the ear of Turgon. 

“Do you not realise that you are taking a great risk by doing so? If the King finds out, you will not just be lectured by your higher-ups, but he might as well throw you all in prison for the not so little crime of “ of ruining someone's social reputation ” for several months, if not up to a year if he is in a really bad mood. Is that something you would like? Not to mention how lady Maeglin might react to show her displeasure at finding out who that have created those rumours about her.” 

None of the ladies looked happy at that information.

“But what else is there to do in this city, when the King himself forbids contact to the outside and we can not leave the vallery when we goes outside the city walls?!” 

The lady did try to make Rog show sympathy, in the hope of that she and her friends might not be punished. While he could understand how more and more people in Gondolin was slowly started to secretly resent how Turgon forbid them from leaving, especially those who once had known a different life before moving to the Hidden City while the younger generation had been taught to see Gondolin as a safe haven from a dangerous world, that could not serve as a legal excuse all the time. 

“Be grateful for that I only brought you here for a warning, about what consequences that might await you if those rumours about Maeglin, Salgant and myself does not stop very quickly. She have every right to choose her eventual husband herself, and it is not the King who make that final decision since it is not him who will live with that person for the rest of his life. ” 

To put in some extra weight on his words as a silent warning, Rog closed the door a little too forcefully as he left the ladies in the chamber. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

So far, Maeglin did not think that they had broken against the many rulers of courtship. She and Rûsa had only touched their faces and hair in a more intimate manner than before, but the unspoken words between them spoke a lot more when they looked into each other's eyes.  

“....can….I…?” 

No doubt that he might want to try a kiss. 

“Just once, if someone else than Rog might come in and see the kiss, it could create a lot of misunderstandings that neither of us want to deal with.” 

Rûsa nodded in agreement, it reminded him of the warnings Rog had told him about being seen by someone else in Gondolin that should not see him for his own own safety. 

After some understandable nervousness on which one to make the first move, both of them even blushing on top of everything, their lips did meet in a rather chaste kiss. 

“Tastes like roasted carrots from earlier,” Maeglin muttered when their faces were apart again, and Rûsa made a wheezing sound that might count as a laugh over the comment, breaking the tension in the air and Maeglin had to laugh as well over how silly it sounded.

Chapter Text

Finally, winter season started with frosty night and it did not take many weeks before snow would be covering Gondolin like a blanket.  

Neither Maeglin or Rûsa spoke of the kiss between them, but Rog was not blind to how they acted around each other after that day. He could read their body language a lot better than other Elves who were much younger, and he knew what was about to happen.    

“So our mole might have found love with a stray fox, huh?” Salgant said as he and Rog enjoyed a meal together. Mainly to avoid that someone overheard them talking about Maeglin, they used code names.  

“I would have missed a lot of signs only someone as old as me can pick up from the young couple in question, if I had not learned to look for the minimal signs people tends to ignore.”

Rog rarely mentioned exactly how old he was, but Salgant knew that it had to be important.

“If only love were as easily as those tales make it seem. Had only things gone a little bit different, I might have managed to court her and win her heart…”   

Oh. Salgant realized that Rog must be lost in memories about a mysterious lady who was said to have win his heart, but no one knew the true identity of that lady in question. Some rumours of the more scandalous kind speculated that she actually was married, or a too high-born lady for a simple blacksmith to be able to support after marriage because of the differences in status. Other rumors claimed that she had stayed behind in Valinor, and a third set said that she had followed into Exile but refused to become part of Gondolin because she did not want to live under the rule of Turgon. 

“Aye. Love is wonderful, but it can be bitter as well.”

Salgant was not really one for romance, not liking all the drama he once had witnessed to happen between young couples back in his own home village. The fear of jealousy was one reason, as well the horror which was called a love triangle. There had been a few sweet girls in his youth, yes, but it had never felt serious enough to form a courtship in the long run and yet they had remained friends afterwards. 

“Now we only need to delay whatever marriage plans the King have for the mole.”  

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Today Maeglin did not bother whatever the housemaids in Rog's household could see her and Rûsa enjoy a small snowball fight together in the garden outside his chamber. 

“How can you be that fast despite your ruined leg?!”

Rûsa proved himself near impossible to hit, for he now revealed himself to have surprising good instinct when it came to avoid anything being thrown at him. Maeglin tried to keep the question good-natured, not wanting to bring up any unpleasant memories for him.

“Training!” he actually teased in good humour, smiling at her as yet another snowball failed to hit him. Maeglin relaxed a little bit at his merry tone, for that was a good sign. 

“Then stand still just for a moment, please!” 

He did not stand still at the request as he returned a snowball aimed against her, but Rûsa slipped in the loose snow and ended up landing with his back in the snow drive towards the house wall. And naturally, some of the snow on the roof slipped down on him.  

“At least you landed softly,” Maeglin could not help but laugh at the temporary look of surprise on his face over the snow in his hair. Rûsa responded with a soft snowball which fell apart halfway towards her because he had not made it enough hard.   

Finally, the winter cold forced them back inside into his chamber where one housemaid had been kind to improve the fire in the fireplace so that it was warm indoors. 

“Goodness, we both would need a change of clothes…” 

The long stay outdoors had made their outer clothing of thick robes, cloaks and gloves very wet indeed. Somehow, it was not really a big surprise that Rûsa started to first remove his wet clothes and then even undress in front of her, perhaps forgetting for a moment that it generally was not done between two Elves of different genders before marriage. At the same time, Maeglin could not help but notice that he seemed to have added on some weight since that time they had shared a bath under Rog's watching eye. 

“He truly have changed in only little over eight months...ignoring that he still is a little thin, and clearly have not been training enough to gain enough muscles for battle again, he have actually became good-looking in his own way…”

Rûsa naturally was oblivious to that little side look she gave him, and looked up with the question; 

“Could you….help…?”

He pointed towards his right foot, because of the metal brace he could not wear long boots and it seemed like he could not move his leg enough high to remove the half-soaked sock. 

“Sure.” 

Since the fireplace was pretty big, Maeglin could place the wet clothes on some racks she found in a semi-hidden closet in the bath chamber. 

With the layers of clothing removed, Rûsa tried to not start shivering as he went over to his bed. Even with the fire going and the chamber far warmer than the outside temperature, his earlier malnutrition from Angband made him more sensitive to temperature differences. 

“Do you want another blanket?” Maeglin asked at seeing him cover himself with the thick blanket, but still watching her by laying on his side. In response, Rûsa reached out with his hand. It could mean anything, but as she came closer, Maeglin refused to let Rûsa pull her down on the bed beside him when he grabbed her hand in his own. 

“I will join you in bed when I want,” Maeglin whispered in a quiet voice when he first seemed afraid of that she would not move, secretly happy over that he dared to take a step on his own but there was no way he could hide a new look in his black eyes: 

Desire, the sexual kind. 

Had it been anyone else who gave her a such look, Maeglin would almost immediately try and knock that person unconscious with a closed fist, mainly because she knew that with Turgon's search for a husband to herself she was not safe from suitors with less than honest intentions. But she could not do that against Rûsa, he reacted badly on someone raising their voice in anger and he had shown signs of trying to avoid being beaten if he believed that she or Rog was displeased with him for some reason.  

“Are you really sure that you want this, Rûsa?” 

Maeglin would not mind him as her secret husband if it could save her from an unwanted marriage Turgon tried to force upon her, but she also did not want either one to to regret it later if they crossed the line, because consummation, the very first sexual intercourse, would bond two Elves in marriage for the rest of their lives.

He held her hand slightly tighter, both as a response to her question and a silent pleading for Maeglin to join him in bed, no matter what would happen after. 

And this time, their kiss was anything but chaste. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Turgon, on the other hand, had found himself in rather deep trouble related to his attempts of matchmaking for Maeglin. 

“I told you to let my cousin choose when it came to the matter of her eventual husband, not to push her in one direction you have chosen. And yet I find that you have not listen to my words about it,” Idril spoke in a cold voice to her father. 

Between them, on his desk, were several lists of potential names for a husband for Maeglin according to what Turgon believed to be the most important in a nephew-by-marriage, which Maeglin had sent to Idril after burning off the faces from the sketches of each suitor. 

As Idril favored her deceased mother Elenwë in appearance, Turgon almost felt as if it really was his wife and not their beloved daughter sitting there on the chair facing him, showing her displeasure in a quiet manner on her fair face yet with cold eyes that would leave him guilt-ridden and filled with shame. In fact, the more Idril pierced her father with exactly the frosty gaze as Elenwë once used on him without even saying a word in anger about all this with trying to marrying Maeglin off, the more Turgon started to feel cold sweat under his clothes. 

“ Atar. ”

Turgon almost jumped in fright at the sound of her voice. Idril rarely had a reason to sound disappointed in the way she did right now. 

“Please be kind and remember that it was a exact similar plan of yours that made aunt Aredhel leave Gondolin and vanish into Nan Elmoth for eighty-four years without contact. For her, Lord Eöl was the perfect revenge against you when came to her different taste in a husband., She added in another layer by showing up with a daughter who was only twenty years from coming-of-age, too old to be reshaped into the Vanyarin ideals of a princess which I grew up with, grown up in a different world and most likely finding Gondolin the exact golden cage as aunt Aredhel found it to be over the years.”

Idril knew where to strike the weakness of Turgon. While Eöl clearly had not given the best first impression for the royal court of Gondolin, the fact that Aredhel on her deathbed had pleaded her brother to show mercy to her husband, had been enough of a detail for Idril to realize that while their marriage was far from harmoniously, Aredhel knew that her husband would never manage life in Gondolin and Eöl would know Aredhel in a whole different way than Turgon due to their marriage bond.  

Unfortunately Turgon did not seem to catch on the hidden meaning from his daughter, a warning about that if he kept pushing Maeglin towards a unwanted marriage, she would most likely run away from Gondolin at reaching her limit to what she was willing to accept from her uncle and never return back, because he suddenly said in a unconcerned voice: 

“I learnt a lesson from my sister and that savage, and the answer is to have Maeglin married to someone before she tries any misbehavior.”

Idril could not believe what she was hearing from the very mouth of her own father, nearly gaping in disbelief. Just how messed up was his view on her poor cousin, really?!

Anyone who saw the blank look of pure disbelief on her face as Idril left the office of her father, hurried out of her way. This was not the right time to ask the princess what was wrong, that much was clear.  

But Rog and Salgant had waited on her, not far from the palace entrance, as per a written agreement earlier that morning. 

“He did not get the hint about how he is ruined the already fragile trust between him and Maeglin…” Idril confressed in a stern voice, sounding both hurt and angry at the same time now when the first shock had vanished. 

Salgant facepalmed, while Rog looked like he had half-expected something like this to happen.

“We have told him to back off from that marriage idea and also warned him for how Maeglin is viewing it. If it blows up in his face, the King will only have himself to blame if our Mole princess ends up vanishing from Gondolin in the middle of night as soon as winter have given away for spring.”

That was pretty much a truthful summation of what could happen, indeed. 

“I will find Tuor. Perhaps he can bring me into a better mood than what I am feeling currently from the words of my father.”

While she did not say it out aloud, Rog and Salgant had a very good guess on how she planned to spend the afternoon with her husband. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

It was now early evening, the sun already setting behind the mountains and colouring the sky red before the darkness of night would fall. 

“Hm?” 

Maeglin awoke by the feeling of something touching her lips. A thumb, to be precise. It was Rûsa, tracing the lines of her face with a very tender look on his own face, almost in wonder over that they were now joined in their souls. Both of them laid on their side, facing each other, but the clothes left on the floor and with them being naked under the blanket revealed enough of what had happen only a few hours ago. 

The whole thing had been awkward and a little clumsy because it was the first time for them both, yes, especially as Rûsa had placed himself under her and insisted on that she would be the one taking control by riding him like she would do in a saddle on a horse, but Maeglin did not regret it. 

“I knew that it would be a good habit of drinking that tea made on contraception herbs, just like ammë taught me…”

It was a habit from a young age, and most of the herbs and plants could be found here in Gondolin. While not traumatized by the birth of her daughter, Aredhel had faced a difficult pregnancy and Eöl had encouraged his wife to start drinking a tea made on herbs which worked as contraception. Maeglin had not been forbidden to try out that tea either, and she had kept drinking that tea once every sixth day to keep her own fertility under control. 

“I am not even sure if Rûsa should be able to make me pregnant, not yet at least...I do not think he have been free long enough from Angband to be healthy in that manner…” 

Touching his face, Maeglin smiled at her secret husband and Rûsa returned the smile as well. No matter what happened now, Turgon would not be able to have her married off to someone else.

Chapter Text

Early spring of the year 510, Gondolin: 

Turgon had not mentioned a sound about any future husband for her during the whole winter season, but Maeglin did not doubt that it could happen soon. 

“I need to leave Gondolin before uncle somehow finds out about Rûsa, and that I married him in secret…” 

She could stand the idea of living in Gondolin anymore, the Hidden city was too filled with bad memories and regrets. Yes, it was a safe place, but the memory of losing her parents, and never truly feeling as if she felt as part of the people here, was too strong. And now with a secret husband she knew that Turgon would never approve of, she had even more of a reason to leave. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

“You and Rûsa plan to basically run away!?” Salgant asked in distress. The secret couple had met up with the two Elf Lords over a shared meal in Rog's house for a very important revealing. 

“The longer I stays here, the higher the risk of that Turgon will pair me together with someone and my secret marriage somehow being revealed. I can not expose Rûsa for that risk, because I refuse to lose a close family member again thanks to the actions or words of my uncle. ”

They understood at once that Maeglin referred to how she had been orphaned, how Turgon had started it all with demanding Eöl to choose between living in Gondolin or only leaving through death. As usual Rûsa said nothing, but the look on his face betrayed his feelings enough. 

“Have you made any plans to where you will go? Running away without a clear plan can be dangerous,” Rog commented, laying down his cutlery on the half-cleaned plate to listen. 

“I am not sure if Nan Elmoth have been spared from the armies of Morgoth, especially with Doriath as a kingdom being gone for about seven years already. So we are thinking of either the Fëanorians or the Falathrim under the rule of Lord Cirdan, my father always respected him despite only meeting him a few times…” 

“The Fëanorians. ”

This time it was Rog who spoke.

“Lady Maedhros and her brothers have never refused a skilled blacksmith based on their gender, and the Lady of Himring is rumoured to have taken in other escaped slaves from Angband when those were refused by those who once were family. Go to them. Ride to the Blue Mountains, to the Dwarne realms your sire shared a friendship with, and try reaching Amon Ereb with a proper group of Dwarven soldiers to protect you both.”

Then Salgant said:

“And what if they can not reach the Blue Mountains safely?” 

“We could take the Cirith Ninniach to Annon-in-Gelydh, but I am not sure whatever it is safe…” 

The mood damped for a while, as all the four Elves returned to eating.

After eating, they looked over the maps of Beleriand to see which was the most likely to succeed in bringing Rûsa and Maeglin to Amon Ereb. 

“I will help you to the Dry River, where the guards should not see you. With a few body guards made of trusted Elves from the House of the Mole, you should be able to find the river Sirion though the ruins of Doriath and follow it down to the Falls of Sirion, where you should be able to follow the Andram Mountains to Amon Ereb. Does that sound as a possible plan?”

The married couple looked at each other. Unless they chose to take the way which could make them run straight into the hands of Morgoth, it seemed like Sirion was the best choice, even if it was far longer. 

“...need to...leave...soon. Days...longer...more...light...” Rûsa struggled to explain that with spring here, the days was slowly becoming longer and the sun staying up longer each evening. If they remained in Gondolin until summer, they would be spotted.

“In three days,” Maeglin finished at his side, Rog and Salgant nodded in agreement though Salgant was still in distress over that it had to turn out like this. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Before they left Gondolin, after Maeglin giving Turgon a official excuse of wanting to be at the cairn where her maternal grandfather Fingolfin was buried to do some spiritual connection and Rog acting as her bodyguard, so did Maeglin a symbolic way of breaking her ties to the Hidden City: 

The items she had worn as the royal niece, the silver crown and the emblem of a plain black field which symbolized the House of the Mole, was broken apart with Anguirel, the sword once used by her father Eöl. 

“I will not be bound by what my uncle plans anymore, and he is not the one to control my life! ” 

On this day, it was the House of the Mole with a few people from the House of the Hammer of Wrath in change of guarding the Seven Gates of Gondolin and Orfalch Echor. No one stopped their former mistress from leaving as the group of riders rode through each gate. 

Once they left the Dry River behind them, Maeglin guided the group towards the Ford of Brithiach. Below the ford there was no means of crossing the river until it reached Doriath.

“We need to stay on the side with the forest of Brethil,” Maeglin told them, recalling Aredhel's tales of the dreadful vallery of Nan Dungortheb. Since Himlad was no longer in control by the House of Fëanor, it was impossible to trust that they could be welcomed by anyone there. 

Despite the long ride each day, and the endless need of being on guard against possible dangers, Rûsa did not complain unless it was to get some treatment for the saddle sores he narrowly avoided to get because he was a unaccustomed rider. Perhaps he understood the need of a hasty travel, to put as much distance between the group and Gondolin before Turgon realized that Maeglin actually had run away. 

“This...is?” Rûsa asked when they entered the ruins of what once must have been a smaller village in Doriath. 

“This place was attacked many years ago, you can see it on how much of the burnt wood are overgrown.” 

Maeglin pushed away the half-burnt remains of a red banner with what seemed to be a few pointed ends made in white without any silver threads though she could easy imagine the change be for practical reasons. One of the few clues to that it had been the Fëanorians and their followers who had done this attack. 

Still, Rûsa seemed to be at unease. No big wonder, this was unnerving place to be at and Maeglin hoped that her husband did not have any bad memories awoken from this. 

“Let's leave for another place to set up camp this night.” 

Still, he kept being tense even as they rode away from the village so it was left far behind them, which alarmed Maeglin. 

“Rûsa, what is wrong? Are you feeling ill?” 

He nodded weakly, actually not looking too well now when she looked in his face while helping him dismount. It could be that the month-long journey so far had taken its toll on him, and that Rûsa was reaching his limit to how much he could stand. She also thought he seemed to have lost some weight since they left Gondolin. 

“If I can shoot a young pheasant or any other sort of small game animal that can be made into a big meal, it might help if his appetite have decreased...”

Maeglin was not as skilled in hunting with a bow and arrows as her late mother, but Aredhel had taught her other hunting methods that could be useful, like making a snare and let a animal enter the trap by itself. 

Suddenly there was a rush in the bushes and Rûsa threw a smaller rock in that direction. When one of the guards checked, it turned out to be a well-fed young pheasant he had broken the neck off with the rock thanks to a lucky strike, exactly the type Maeglin had been thinking off. 

“Well, it seems like we will have a small feast at dinner tonight!”

~X~X~X~X~X~X

By the time two weeks had passed, Turgon had finally demanded to know what had happened to Maeglin and why Rog was not with her. And he had not taken it well at being given the broken crown, realized the meaning behind the destruction. Since then, he had basically been in a state of shock and disbelief, wandering around the corridors of the royal palace like a ghost. 

“Alright, I think a week in the dungeon is enough for you,” Idril said as the guard opened the doors to the cell where Rog had been kept for the past six days, since Turgon had accused him of hiding Maeglin's escape and the older Elf Lord coldly reminding the King that he was not a babysitter for the royal family. Maeglin had requested him to stay a bit below the cairn of Fingolfin, would he interfere with her time in prayer to her grandfather? 

“The King still shocked over that despite everything, his niece refused to let him control a very important part of her life, the little detail called love and romance?” 

Idril was only glad to see that Rog was not too ill-tempered over how her father had treated him. Maeglin's escape from Gondolin had created a lot of unspoken social unrest among its people, and even more when the Elves once serving in the House of the Mole had revealed that their former mistress had fled in fear of being pressured into accepting a marriage and a future husband her uncle might not realize to be a poor match for her. 

“I was actually on the way to try making a situation where Maeglin could escape from Gondolin, because I no longer trusted my father when it came to her future.”

Rog could understand Idril's sorrow, she loved her father but his actions over the past year had broken her trust in him. It was impossible to ignore how different Turgon had treated the two cousins, rarely refusing his daughter anything but keeping his niece at a distance as if her Avari blood tainted her somehow. Pretty ironic, given that Idril was half Vanyarin thanks to Elenwë and having the same amount of Noldorin blood in her veins as Maeglin because both Turgon and Aredhel had the same set of parents, with a non-Noldoin spouse each. 

“Well, he only have himself to blame for this event happening twice with nearly two-hundred years apart. Lady Aredhel left Gondolin for the same reason, and her daughter chose that path as well instead of having her freedom of choice taken away. Sometimes a lesson is only learnt the hard way.” 

Idril said nothing, but followed Rog outside on the streets of Gondolin to let people see that even if the King was still angry with the Lord of the House of the Hammer of Wrath, the princess had pardoned him after letting things cool down a little bit.  

“Tuor and I am building a secret tunnel to ensure that we can escape when the Dark Lord attacks us. ”

When. Not if. That little detail in her whispering told Rog that the couple was not blind for the dangers that did threaten to show up eventually. A good sign given how Turgon seened to make himself blind for reality. 

“I will send over the people who followed Maeglin, then. Miners are very useful in a situation like fixing a new water channel for more fresh water from the mountains,” Rog smiled at her, acting as if he and Idril merely had talked about something else that the whole city and the farmers in the vallery needed; fresh water. Idril nodded, pretending the same. 

“Tuor will be glad, for he worried about us not having enough skilled workers to do this quickly.”

As far as anyone else could know, Idril was referring to that fresh water was in extra demand during the summer months, both for drinking and for cooling off in a bath when the heat become worrying hot for young children. With a son of her own, it was only natural that she would join the mother worrying about their child possibly getting a sunstroke. 

“Mama!”

Eärendil and his father Tuor was not far away, so Idril excused herself to Rog before joining her little family at the fountain. As for Rog, he knew that there was a week's worth of paperwork likely awaiting him on the desk in his office, so he might as well try to diminish that number at once after taking a shower, dressed in fresh clothes and a proper meal. 

“At least Gondolin will not be Maeglin's tomb, should it simply be that it is her fate to join her relatives in the Halls of Mandos…” 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Maeglin awoke by feeling Rûsa move beside her, but it was not like in the rare times of love-making as they had done in Gondolin. Rather, it felt as if he was listening for something. 

“Rûsa…?”

But Rûsa did not respond to the sleepy voice of his wife. Instead he only kept glaze with a very focused look towards the north, from where they had ridden yesterday. And the way his ears twitched… 

“Orcs!! ” he growled, before suddenly screaming:

“WAKE UP!! ” 

The unexpected shouting made all the others wake up, and the poor one who had the night shift actually tripped over a tree root in surprise. Any argument was quickly stopped by the sound of orcs coming closer. Maeglin was among the first ones up and pulling her chainmail over her head after quickly tying up her hair in a topknot. They had not brought proper armour along from Gondolin because it would only add unnecessary weight in their packing. 

“Don't scream! Your vocal cords are damaged enough as it is!” Maeglin hissed, grabbing hold of Rûsa to pull him towards the horses. 

“We will try and keep them here, if possible! Ride away from here, my lord and lady!” 

Maeglin did not mind that Rûsa was addressed with a title before her, it was simply that the way a such addressing went and with her being a heiress, it could be a slip of tongue in this less than ideal situation.   

“Come on, Rûsa!” Maeglin ordered as they rode away together towards another ruin, a tower on a small hall, in the hope of better protecting each other there without being in the open.

It was probably lucky that none of them knew the Orkish dialects spoken in Angband, because Rûsa paled at hearing one command among the battle sounds:  

“Catch him! Catch the Warg Rider! ” 

Two arrows was sent flying, and it was only the memory of how his right leg had been ruined from the first time a heavy animal had fallen over him, that allowed Rûsa to fall out of the saddle again as his horse was killed by the arrows, because this time he was not caught in the stirrup. 

“Rûsa!” 

Maeglin managed to pull him up on her horse as soon as he rose up on his feet, but she knew that her horse could possibly be shot as well, so she aimed for the simple goal of getting them to the tower ruin at least. 

Once they got to the tower ruin, they just narrowly got off the horse before it was killed by a arrow in the throat, just as Maeglin had feared to happen. 

“Get up to the second floor!” 

Running upwards along the stone stair was not exactly gentle for Rûsa's right leg, but he clenched his teeth at the memory of how his knee tendons had been damaged long before this, in the battle area where as part of his “battle training” Sauron had chained his foot to the floor to limit his movements and still force him to fight deadly opponents. 

“Get lost, you damned freaks!” 

For all of her slender build, Maeglin was strong in her upper body and arms due to being a blacksmith, and she knew how to use Anguirel to kill since it had been far from the first time she secretly battled orcs by the time she had saved her future husband. 

Finding a pile of elven daggers in a corner of one room as he smashed the face of a orc against the stone wall, Rûsa proved himself to be very deadly when it came to throwing daggers and almost immediately take them back for reuse against any orc that tried to come up to the second floor by the stair. Any loose stone of fist-size in the wall, also throwed to basically make the orcs fall over on the ones further down, showed just how quick he could be when it was needed.

“Well done!” Maeglin allowed herself to smile at him, not hiding her pride over how skilled he was, and Rûsa grinned in a manner that would have caught Aredhel off guard, if she had been alive in that very moment and seen it. But Maeglin had only met two of the Fëanorians, Celegorm and Curufin, once in her life more than a hundred years ago and thus did not make the same connection as her mother would have done. 

“Watch out!” 

Even as they kept fighting almost back to back in order to cover each other. neither one doubted that Rûsa's injuries from the fall one year earlier would become a handicap soon. Which mean that he could be killed from doing a single mistake, and the raw emotional chaos resulting from the loss of her husband would cripple Maeglin, preventing her from fighting properly. And that in turn could only mean two things; 

Either that she was killed, or captured and enslaved in Angband. If there were any hint to that she knew about Gondolin, Morgoth and Sauron would not  hesitate to use torture in order to force her to betray the Hidden City. 

And without knowing of her secret marriage that winter, Turgon and everyone else in Gondolin would think that she was captured after running away from the security the Hidden City offered for those who lived there.

With Rûsa killed two orcs with the daggers, sticking one into the eye of one orc and then the throat of the one beside while a third suffered a very deadly headache from the second dagger getting stuck into the forehead, Maeglin turned around to face him. 

The last of her hunting arrows was used to prevent a orc sword from landing into his unprotected back, the orc falling over the edge of the half-collapsed stone wall. Taking a deep breath, Maeglin tried to use the marriage bond to make him listen in both body and spirit. 

“Find your parents in the Halls. Do not be afraid of what will happen to me, I will try and find my own relatives I never met when they were alive. Rebirth is possible in Valinor...so please let us meet again in a new life in the lands beyond the sea, where we do not need to hide our relationship. Let yourself be reborn to taste how it really is to have a loving family with your parents, and grow healthy so we can be together.” 

Rûsa looked like he was about to cry over her words, but he nodded weakly in agreement when she held out her hand towards him. An attacking orc gave him the perfect reason to pull her along over the edge, where the steepest part of the hill fell straight down into a dry stream. The many rocks at the bottom, which would have been hidden by the water otherwise, made the landing quick and almost painless. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Gondolin fell three months later at Midsummer, because one last Elf in the escort of Maeglin and Rûsa had been taken captive as a prisoner, brought to Angband and tortured in order to reveal where the Hidden City was. 

The secret tunnel had been finished by the last minute, but it was still with massive regret in her heart as Idril looked back at the burning city of white marble over her shoulder, just in time to see the Tower of the King collapse. Her father had been there last she saw him on this horrible day. 

Turgon had refused to leave Gondolin to the very end, and his beloved Hidden City became his tomb. 

Chapter Text

In the Halls of Mandos, Maeglin had not been surprised at all to hear that Gondolin had ended up as a burning tomb for everyone who failed to escape from the armies of Angband. Her uncle had been forced to realize his mistake more or less when it already was too late, that Gondolin had became a death trap.  

And Aredhel had not been pleased at all when seeing her brother, using a very foul and creative name-calling as she yelled at Turgon for executing Eöl despite her plea to show mercy to her husband and just what was that not so little mention about trying to set up her daughter in a arranged marriage against her will? Eöl had joined his wife at beating up Turgon for disrespecting Maeglin's personal wishes about marriage. 

Her other uncles, Fingon and Argon, and grandfather Fingolfin did nothing to stop Turgon from getting beaten up. As far as they cared, he deserved it for messing up at a such level with some of his closest family members. 

“Alright, that is enough. Let Elenwë deal with her husband now,” Fingolfin requested at hearing Eöl threatening to literally geld Turgon with his own hands when the second son of Fingolfin was reborn, so Idril would remain a only child unless her parents adopted. 

Maeglin left her family to wander a bit, knowing that there was other old friends from Gondolin she likely would meet soon. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Her stay in the Halls of Mandos was rather peaceful, ignoring a few accusations that she could be the one who betrayed Gondolin to Morgoth and which she responded with the reminder of how Turgon had tried to control her choices in marriage. 

Once or twice she happened to meet Rûsa, learning that his father, a former Avari slave of Angband, had been in the Halls before the birth of his son because of suicide made from despair and desperation. Rûsa's Noldorin birth mother had still not arrived to the Halls, which meant that she still was alive, but as Rûsa had never seen her in Angband, he had always hoped that she was one of those slaves who had managed to escape, even if it had been to the cost of not managing to take her son with her. 

“Yes, there is always something which can end up in regret, and you must be ready on that she might first not believe that you are her child…”

That Rûsa did agree on, and while their meetings was very rare out of avoiding being seen by Turgon or anyone else who might reveal them, they kept in contact until that they had healed enough for rebirth. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

After her rebirth in the early Third Age and joining the household of her maternal grandparents because Aredhel and Eöl believed it to be better for herself to choose where she wanted to live, it not take long for Maeglin for be viewed as impossible by the royal court. At least by those who still kept to the Vanyarin view about noble daughters who did not marry over time or had a less than scandal-free background. 

She refused to be alone with Turgon again and did her best to ignore him whatever they saw each other, her trust broken in him after the events of her last years in Gondolin. It was unlikely to heal, with how his actions had affected her life so much. 

Thankfully, the rest of her family was easier to get along with. 

“Arafinwë and Eärwen did a good job as rulers over the Noldor who remained in Valinor, but they hated the burdens that came with it. So when my father-in-law Finwë was reborn, he found himself back as a High King and Indis as Queen at his side once more. However, the royal court have changed from the time before the Darkening of Valinor, new generations have been born and challenges old traditions.”

Anairë had proved herself to Maeglin that she was not a stereotype of a noble-born lady who once had served in the royal court before marriage. Yes, she confessed to not enjoying the outdoors much in the same manner as her daughter, but it was because she felt uncomfortable in the wildness if something dangerous happened and instead focused on personally tendering her flower garden and orchard. 

“I am not brave in the same manner as my husband and most of my children. The unknown is one of my greatest fears, and more so the tales of what dangers that could await outside a safe place. My own parents always said that I would never have survived in the time between the Awakening and when Lord Oromë found the Elves so we could be taken to Valinor, for I would have been a easy prey for dangers.” 

Maeglin saw nothing strange in her maternal grandmother admitting a such weakness, it simply meant that Anairë was aware of her flaws and knew how it could look like for others.

“I am actually glad that you remained in Valinor, grandmother. Because not only did that mean that we had a person waiting on us at rebirth, but I think that grandfather would never forgive himself if he had lost you as well,” Maeglin said with a steady glare towards where Fingolfin could be seen a distance away from his wife and younger granddaughter. Anairë smiled a sad smile. 

“For all of the grief your mother once caused in her youth, so am I happy that she found a husband she is happy with, even if they need to live separately for most of the time in order to have some harmony in their marriage. And do not feel ashamed over being viewed as impossible to have a courtship with by the royal court, every family have a family member that stands out, even if they refuse to admit it.” 

That was a truth Maeglin did not hear often, but she enjoyed when her own relatives realized that she wanted to live her own life as she wanted. 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In the summer of the 22th year of the Fourth Age, Maeglin got a royal summon from Finwë to be present at a full-scale family meeting in Tirion. It seemed as the House of Fëanor would finally arrive to the Noldorin capital after being reborn a few years after the start of the Fourth Age, but refused to show themselves outside Formenos, the fortress which had grown into a real city over the past Ages.       

“Well, I rarely met them in the Halls because they were kept apart from other Elves in order to prevent possible riots aimed to harm them….” 

Rûsa had spoken truthfully about not being angry at his mother for never being present in his life before he could remember her face or voice. He had been only one of thousands of orphans born in Angband to enslaved parents, and being a orphan was more common than not. It could very well be a such situation, even with one parent absent due to a lucky escape.  

His mother, revealed to be no one else than the legendary Maedhros from the House of Fëanor, the female warrior who had been the foe so many orcs feared because she lived to wield her sword with her left hand more deadly than her missing right hand had been, had cried in disbelief and grief at finally seeing him in the Halls after her own arrival, hugging him while tearfully confessing that she had been tricked into believing that he had been killed as a newborn, which was not unheard off if the newborn slave child was viewed as sickly and too frail for possible survival past infanthood. 

Now twelve years had passed since his rebirth, and he had been raised by his mother, her six brothers and maternal grandparents alongside a older cousin who had died in the Second Age thanks to Sauron. Sure, his social manners was not exactly perfect, and the royal court was most likely to try and demand information about his father, since his parents had agreed to not be viewed as legally married by the laws of the Valar. Rûsa did not know all the details, but he had been told to let the adults fix the talk and mostly stay out of the way for servants if he went to find a quiet corner out of boredom during the visit to Tirion. 

And yet, when he used his cover behind Maedhros' long skirts to look around in the throne hall, there was one person among the unknown Elves who seemed a little familiar in a strange way.

“That lady is….!”

Maeglin had the same realization, at spotting the V-shaped scar on his left cheek. 

“ So he was born to the most unlikely mother of all my possible guesses about her identity...but, with her as the only one in our expanded family to have been a prisoner in Angband…! ”

No, it did not matter. They had not known when they secretly married in Gondolin and she had promised to wait on him until that he was a legal adult when he was reborn. Besides, by sharing Finwë as their only common great-grandfather and descended from each one of his two wives with vastly different blood from other relatives married into the generations before themselves, Maeglin and Rûsa would not have to worry too much about their future children suffering from inbreeding. 

If only their respective families approved of their relationship when he was an adult, the future could hold a promise of that everything would be well for them.