Not So Happy Returns

by Soledad

Author’s Notes: For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the Foreword.

In my little corner of the Ardaverse Gwindor and Finduilas have consummated their bond before the Nirnaeth and had a daughter named Faelivrin. She escaped the Fall of Nargothrond and came to Círdan to live with the Falathrim. Lindir of Rivendell was her grandson.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

December 20 – Empty-Handed

Once he had been a Prince of Nargothrond and the warlord of its King, and even Morgoth trembled before his ire when he charged the hosts of Angband on the plains of Anfauglith, at the sight of his brother Gelmir’s brutal murder at the hands of the Orcs. Yet in the end he was overwhelmed, captured and enslaved. Seventeen years of the Sun had he spent as a thrall of Angband, ere he could escape.

Escaping Angband cost him one of his hands, and he would have died in the wilderness, alone and in despair, had Beleg Cúthalion not found him and saved his fëa through friendship… just as he had saved his hröa through leechcraft. For a while, that friendship could rouse him from his despair.

Yet not much later Beleg was slain by his Mortal friend – the same one they had rescued from the Orcs – and Gwindor saw it as his duty to rouse the Man as Beleg had roused him… for his perished friend’s sake.

Now, living in Nargothrond once again, he was wondering if he had done the right thing. For the Man he had brought with him had gained respect and great influence in Aran Orodreth’s council, at Gwindor’s expense, and his warnings were ignored in favour of the Man’s counsel of open warfare upon Morgoth’s forces.

Even Finduilas, the King’s daughter, to whom he had been engaged before his capture, seemed to have lost her heart to the Mortal. He did not blame her; not truly. He was a broken Elf, both in body and spirit, and she was still young and as beautiful as always. Their hastily formed bond apparently could not hold the pressure caused by the damage captivity and slavery had inflicted upon him. ‘Twas better to break up the engagement and set her free – even if it broke his heart.

He tried to warn her that the Man was cursed; but she was too enchanted to listen. Mayhap some evil magic was in play there, due to the curse laid upon the Man by Morgoth. Whatever the reason might be, she refused to listen, though it was obvious that the Man did not return her love… her infatuation… whatever it truly was.

And Gwindor son of Guilin hated that he could do naught but watch her walk to her doom. Just as he had to watch Aran Orodreth lead Nargothrond to its doom by ignoring the warnings of Arminas and Gelmir, the ambassadors of Lord Círdan.

Gelmir! The name, the same one his murdered brother had borne, was still like a knife rammed into his very heart. On days like these he almost wished he had died in Angband. What did he have to live for? He had lost everything: his father, his brother, his beauty, his health, his bride, the respect of his King.

He was an empty shell, washed ashore. Life had long dried out of him.

His only hope was that – should Nargothrond fall, which seemed inevitable at this point – he would not survive to see the aftermath.

~Fin~