Erestor (erest0r) wrote in derkholm, @ 2009-06-14 17:06:00 |
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Current mood: | melancholy |
My mun spent the better part of an hour at the laundromat today due to a malfunctioning dryer, and she decided to re-read The Fall of Gondolin through my eyes while she was there. She makes poor choices sometimes, my mun.
A few thoughts for general consumption...
'Tis said that Ecthelion's folk there slew more of the goblins than fell ever in all the battles of the Eldalië with that race, and that his name is a terror among them to this latest day, and a warcry to the Eldar.
One of these days I'm totally going to find Ecthelion a shirt that says WHAT'S MY NAME, BITCHES. Nobody will really get it except we of the old-school, but that's fine.
There were the scatterlings of the guard of the Wing and of the houses of the Tree and the Fountain, and of the Swallow and the Arch, welded to a good battalion, and by the counsel of Tuor they gave way out of that Place of the Well, seeing that the Square of the King that lay next was the more defensible.
...Tuor is weary for the labours of the night and the weight of Ecthelion who is in a deadly swoon.
So there I was, wrangling what was left of the Fountain while Tuor hauled our Lord around like a sack of potatoes. Fun times.
...and so perished the lord of the Fountain...
I refuse to quote the rest, because I was there for it. The lady at the laundromat gave my mun tissues at this point in the reading. No lie. I might note, though, that I didn't officially disband the House until nearly thirty years later, after the Fëanorians sacked Sirion and whittled the Fountain down to Aerandir and I. As I told him at the time, "two soldiers with long memories do not a House make."
Now was Tuor torn sorely between his reverence for the king and the love for Idril and his child, wherewith his heart was sick... because of the wailing of the women in the halls of the palace and the greatness of his pity for that sad remainder of the peoples of Gondolin, he gathered all that rueful company, maids, children and mothers, and setting them amidmost marshalled as well as he might his men around them... for he purposed falling back southward...
Obviously the Fountain went with Tuor, instead of staying to defend our King. Probably one of the worst decisions I've ever had to make. Also, I think we passed right by the flaming carcass of our House, which was just added insult to injury.
Glorfindel held the rear manfully
Unsurprisingly, my mun giggled like an idiot at that. The lady at the laundromat probably thinks she needs medication. SIGH.
...a drake was coiled even on the very steps of the palace and defiled their whiteness; but swarms of Orcs ransacked within and dragged forth forgotten women and children or slew men that fought alone.
I don't think I actively wished I'd died with Ecthelion until this point.
...the child [Eärendil] was upon the shoulders of one Hendor, a house-carle of Idril's...
See now, my mun wants to know what the hell a house-carle is. Is it another name for a ninja-butler or something?
...and falling clutched Glorfindel's yellow locks...
I'm not quoting the rest of this, either. I was there. I didn't really know Glorfindel back then, but he was the Beloved, and, well... every loss was just another twist of the knife by that time.
The moral of the story is that my mun shouldn't be allowed to make her own decisions in the future.