Picking Up The Pieces by Grundy  

A Moth To The Flame

After the meal, Maeglin was mentally prepared to move on. Or at least, he was close to convincing himself that was true.

No matter how drawn he might be to the girl with the light, remaining with her and her companions was begging for trouble. He doubted Princess Tindomiel’s parents, whoever they might be, would be pleased if she returned home with Maeglin Lomion in tow. The prince of Ondolindë might have been an acceptable friend for their daughter – and he tried to be firm in his own mind that it could be only friend. The disgraced traitor would not be.

But the four young elves showed no sign of rushing back to their self-assigned task.

“If you’re in no particular hurry, you’re welcome to stick around,” Tindomiel told him as they lazed about, talking of everything and nothing in a way that reminded him painfully of afternoons with Itarillë, when they would slip away from their duties and find a corner of the valley where they could be themselves, with no audience.

“Anairon’s going to make jam,” Tasariel added brightly. “Which leaves the rest of us with nothing much to do.”

“If you get in my way, I’ll find something for you to do,” Anairon promised.

“Who said anything about being in the way?” Tasariel asked. “We’re going to sit, watch, and hand you whatever you tell us you need when you say you need it until it’s time to either bottle or eat the results.”

“Or both,” Tindomiel offered hopefully. “Both is good. Fresh jam would be a treat.”

“Glad to hear it,” Anairon replied, with the air of a craftsman who had previously suffered unwelcome interruptions. He seemed to be looking at Tasariel in particular. “I’m going to set up.”

Tindomiel snickered.

“So, where are you heading?” she asked as Anairon stood up. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to get rid of you! You’re still welcome to stay. We’re good company, really.”

The winsome smile that accompanied her words would have had elves with far firmer resolve than he currently possessed wavering. It was just as well, for Maeglin had been tamping down his rising panic. Where he meant to go was a natural question for anyone to ask. But as he knew neither where he was at the moment in relation to the rest of Beleriand nor what options currently existed for where he might go, he had no ready answer.

“To my family, once I discover where they are to be found,” he said slowly, hoping it would be an acceptable reply.

“We could help,” Califiriel offered.

In face she was very different, but in manner the girl was so like Laurefindil it was almost uncanny.

“Yeah,” Tasariel agreed readily. “Who exactly did you mean by ‘family’?”

Maeglin thought for a moment. His parents were dead. He had never known any of his grandparents – his mother’s mother was on the far side of the Sea; her father and both his father’s parents were also dead. He didn’t know yet if Itarillë lived – he dearly hoped she did, but so many of his hopes had come to naught. Which left only one option…

“My great-aunt and uncle,” he replied. “Melian and Thingol.”

The girls brightened at once, which told him that as he’d suspected, the king and queen of Doriath were still well-known to all. Nor had his companions made the connection between Melian and Thingol and Maeglin. Perhaps they thought he was some other grandnephew. Or perhaps they simply didn’t know much of Thingol’s family tree. Then again, with all of them fluent in Noldorin, it was just possible they weren’t aware that Maeglin Lomion would be kin to Thingol. His uncle had never much cared to hear about his Sindarin kin.

“That’s easy enough,” Tindomiel told him. “We can take you to Neldoreth once Anairon’s done. Which means tomorrow, really – he’ll be at it most of the afternoon, and anything he bottles will need to cool before we can pack it. But Neldoreth’s only a couple days from here. Well, a couple days if we’re trying to make time. We don’t have to, though. We can take it easy. You probably aren’t used to walking much yet. So probably three or four days?”

He inclined his head.

“I thank you. It is a very kind offer. But I would not wish to take you out of your way.”

“Given that we’re pretty much just inventing stuff to do until I’m not in the doghouse anymore, taking you to Neldoreth isn’t out of our way,” Tindomiel snorted. “Besides, I’m not in trouble with those grandparents. Neldoreth is just as good as out here.”

Maeglin frowned.

“What have dogs to do with the matter?” he asked in some confusion.

“Sorry, that was a California idiom,” Tindomiel replied, looking slightly abashed. “I’m not as bad as my sister, but sometimes I forget what doesn’t translate well. And that’s one Anairon’s used to hearing.”

A mutter from one of the younger girls indicated that Anairon was used to hearing it because it was so frequently applicable.

“It’s another way of saying ‘in trouble’ or ‘in bad odor’,” Tindomiel concluded blithely as though she hadn’t heard the aside.

“Ah,” he said, despite not understanding in the least the reasoning behind the idiom. “But not in Neldoreth?”

“Not in the least,” she assured him. “The Lindarin kin will all think the whole thing’s hilarious when I tell them. If I tell them.”

It sounded as if she didn’t plan to do so. He wondered why not, given that she believed they would find it amusing.

“The Lindarin kin will likely encourage you to do worse,” Tasariel grinned. “Thingol is still in favor of avoiding the Noldor to the greatest degree possible. He’ll be all for you pranking annoying stuck-up Noldorin lordlings, even before he finds out they’re annoying stuck-up Noldorin lordlings with ideas about marriage.”

Given his experiences with the Noldor and their curse, Maeglin couldn’t say his great-uncle was wrong to think so. He just hoped Thingol didn’t count him as Noldorin these days.

“Yeah, you’d think he’d have mellowed by now,” Tindomiel shrugged. “But either way, it’s going to be fine. We’re bringing someone back - that means everyone will be in a good mood!”

“Let it never be said you’re not down for a party,” Califiriel said wistfully.

“You talk like you’re not coming,” Tindomiel said, her voice filling with disappointment.

“Atto gave us a month free from tutoring, not the entire summer,” Tasariel shrugged. “We’ve been out here for most of that already. So as much fun as it would be to go visiting while King Thingol is in a festive mood, we’ll have to pass on pain of not being allowed out again before Yestarë. There wouldn’t be enough time for us to go to Neldoreth for more than a few minutes and still be back home when we’re meant to be.”

“You could still come. Your dad won’t fuss that much over an extra day or two, will he? Even if he does, I bet your grandparents would spring you,” Tindomiel protested. “Your grandmother does that whole ‘you’re being too strict with her, darling’ thing to your dad that my mother gets from her mother and grandparents.”

“Your Lindarin grandparents are the only ones who think your parents are too strict with you,” Anairon pointed out. He was passing by, his hands full of what looked like cooking implements. “Everyone else thinks they aren’t strict enough, even Aunt Irimë. So I wouldn’t count on her getting those two off restriction for deliberately doing something they knew they shouldn’t. You’re being a bad influence again.”

Tindomiel pointedly declined to dignify that with a response.

“Anyway,” she told Maeglin, “Anairon and I can take you to Neldoreth no problem. If you don’t mind a minor detour, we’ll take Tas and Cali home first. But if you’d rather go straight there, they can make their way home on their own. It’s not like it’s all that far, like a day if they take the road.”

Maeglin gathered that this group didn’t usually bother with the road, but in this case, the girls would be responsible and do so.

“Yep. Up to you,” Tasariel agreed cheerfully, getting up to relieve Anairon of some of what he was carrying before he could drop anything. “Where do you want this?”

Anairon pointed to an area not far from the stream that looked like it had already served as a firepit once, and the two of them began to set up – though not without some mild bickering.

“Peacekeeping duty calls,” Califiriel sighed after a few moments of watching her sister in no way keep to her stated intention of staying out of the way. “Do you think someday she’ll learn to let him work without distraction?”

“Eventually? Maybe?” Tindomiel offered with a shrug. “But probably not today.”

Califiriel’s expression as she went to intervene suggested this was a regular occurrence.

“Are they not young to travel on their own?” Maeglin asked, watching the two girls.

He couldn’t be sure, so much of his memory was a blank, but he felt even his father’s people would find two girls of their age travelling on their own shocking.

“This is only a couple days from home for them,” she shrugged. “They’re technically still underage, but Anairon and I ranged further than this on our own even before we came of age, in pretty much all directions. So they have a solid argument for why it would be really unfair if they weren’t allowed. If you’re not feeling up to the city yet, their father would probably rather we let them make their own way back than take them with us. And the road passes pretty close to where we’ll be tomorrow or the day after, so it’s not like they’ll be on their own all that long.”

“You know Laurefindil well?”

The question slipped out before he could think better of it.

Tindomiel grinned.

“I’ve known him my whole life. Even before Tas and Cali were begotten. Though he spent most of his time back then riding herd on my older sister. I was too young and untroublesome to need anywhere near as much watching as Anariel.”

Maeglin suspected that Tindomiel had not been quite as ‘untroublesome’ as she was claiming. He’d never yet known a princess who could say such a thing with any honesty. Happily, he also couldn’t imagine it was anything to worry about.

More interesting to him was that the other two girls were indeed Laurefindil’s daughters. He’d been wrong about so much…

Tindomiel must have caught his quizzical look as he glanced over at them.

She hesitated a moment.

“Their mothers were daughters of Men,” she said quietly enough that her voice would not carry beyond him.

Maeglin had no idea what to say to that. He would certainly not have guessed that Laurefindil would take an interest in a daughter of Men, let alone two of them.

“We don’t usually talk about it much,” Tindomiel continued. “Willow and Tara are both dead, they died in the war. I just thought you should know. Like, to avoid confusion and…”

Her hands fluttered about in the air, apparently trying to cover everything from ‘awkwardness’ to ‘gaping in astonishment when you see them together’.

“You needn’t tell me anything considered private,” Maeglin told her quickly. “I do not wish to intrude.”

He could not help but wonder how recent the war was. He felt as though it could not have been long before he first saw Tindomiel, when she had brought the light. She must have been one of the first to brave the deepest tunnels – though he could not think what commander would have let a girl scarcely more than a child do such a thing.

“Don’t be silly,” the girl in question snorted. “It would only be intruding if you didn’t know Laurefindil. Besides, it’s not like a good chunk of New Gondolin isn’t aware. The Golden Flowers and Fountains all do, for a start. Pretty sure the Wings do, too, and most of the Hammers. And probably Heavenly Arch and Pillar and Snow. Oh, and the Trees and Swallows. Not sure about the rest of the houses.”

Maeglin decided not to point out that she’d named nearly every house save his own (assuming it still existed), the King’s, and Salgant’s. More of the city must have survived than he had thought. From the sound of it, the only house he could imagine not being in on the knowledge was the house of the Harp. But as open and friendly as Laurefindil was, even them not knowing seemed unlikely.

Not only was he thrown by the nonchalant mention of a new Ondolindë, he felt somewhat nervous that she’d been able to pick up that he knew Laurefindil by more than just reputation. So he tried to shift the conversation onto safer paths.

“You said he ‘rode herd’ on your sister?”

She laughed.

“Yeah, he’s the second most effective authority figure in the not terribly large constellation of people my sister actually listens to.”

Maeglin blinked.

While he knew that as a lord of Ondolindë, Laurefindil could command at need, he was generally easy-going and good-tempered. Hardly the type of person Maeglin would have described as an authority figure, let alone the second most effective he knew. (He was not actually sure what his personal ranking would be, having never really considered it before. But if asked to pick someone from the city he wouldn’t openly disobey, his uncle would definitely be the first one that came to mind. Laurefindil wouldn’t even be among the first five.)

“If Laurefindil is only second, who is the most effective?”

“Thranduil, if you can believe it,” Tindomiel laughed. “Most people don’t! But he’s the only person we know of who’s ever made her do something she really didn’t want to do.”

Maeglin didn’t actually know who Thranduil was. But he was reluctant to tell Tindomiel her assumption that he would recognize the name was incorrect. She spoke as if he ought to know the name. Perhaps he should.

“That being?”

“Sent her home and made her stay there.”

Tindomiel’s grin indicated this was far more of a feat than it sounded.

“I guess it was really a group effort between Ada, Nana, Glorfindel, Gildor, and our brothers on the staying part,” she continued. “But the sending her home was all Thranduil. Although there might have been a little bit of aiding and abetting from Willow, Tara, Xander, and Anya. Even they thought she should take some time off to recover before her next near-death experience, but still… It was pretty impressive.”

Getting Tindomiel talking about her youth, her sister, their brothers, and their home Imladris was worryingly simple. He hoped she wasn’t this open with everyone – it would make her an easy target for any with evil intent.

He had to remind himself firmly that Gorthaur and Belegurth were gone. They had to be – if they weren’t, it would be unthinkable for this group to be out alone and undefended. But it was hard to stifle the inner voice reminding him that the Noldor had thought their Enemy vanquished before.

He should have stopped her. It was taking advantage to let her run on so. But he was reluctant to interrupt. It wasn’t just her easy acceptance of him, or even the many anecdotes she had of the home she loved. He liked listening to her.

More than that, there was something about Tindomiel that was just reassuring. She radiated a confidence that everything was all right. It was a bit like sitting by a fireplace on a winter day. It was probably why so many of the elves he had seen had been so eager to talk to her.

He had a sinking feeling that it made him a fool, but he was just as happy to bask in her presence as any of them.