Chapter 10
King Turgon's decree was as silent and resolute as the mountains surrounding Gondolin. Though Princess Aretil, still not fully recovered, pleaded repeatedly before the throne, her blue eyes filled with disappointment at her brother's stubbornness and guilt for Meereen's plight, the Hidden King's resolve remained unwavering. His stern gaze swept across his sister's pale face, finally resting on Meereen, who lay silent below.
"Your safety is my first concern, Aretil. He saved you, a favor, and Gondolin will remember it." Turgon's voice was low and powerful. "But the safety of the Hidden City comes before any personal feelings or favors. His origins, his power, and even how he came to Middle-earth are all mysteries. I cannot risk allowing any rift that could lead to darkness to appear within my walls."
Ariel wanted to argue, but Meereen stepped forward lightly, bowed slightly, and said calmly in his increasingly fluent Sindarin: "Respected King Turgon, I understand your concerns. You protect the homeland of thousands of elves, and this responsibility is heavier than the stars. Please do not be troubled by me, and there is no need to argue with your relatives. Having a peaceful place in this beautiful city is far more fortunate than I hoped for when I fell into the forest." His eyes were sincere, with an almost transcendent calmness, as if he was not the one under house arrest.
Aretil looked at Meereen, then at her brother, and finally she could only bite her lip and whispered: "Brother, please believe me. Please also observe again, I will not let Meereen be trapped in this small place forever." She turned to Meereen with a glimmer of promise in her eyes.
Meereen responded with an understanding smile, which was like a glimmer of light penetrating the clouds, briefly dispelling the haze in Aretil's heart.
Thus began a new life in Meereen's "home" in Gondolin, a hidden garden courtyard nestled in the eastern wing of the King's Tower, surrounded by tall stone walls and lush, ancient vines. The courtyard was small, yet exquisitely designed. A gurgling stream flowed through the cracks in the rockery, flowing into a clear pond dotted with silver starflowers and evergreen shrubs. Compared to the cold and oppressive shadow palace of Nan Elmoth, this place, while still a "cage," was bright, clean, and full of natural vitality. Meereen even felt a strange sense of optimism: at least here there was sunlight, running water, and the safety of a roof—far better than a forest tree nest or Eol's stone hall.
He quickly devoted his attention to the small garden. As if instinctively summoned by the light deep within his soul, he began to meticulously tend every plant there. He weeded, pruned dead branches, watered the garden, and even, with his strangely warm hands, gently brushed against leaves and petals that had drooped from lack of care. A miracle occurred. The silver star flowers, once scattered here and there, blossomed like a starry sky within a few days. A few half-withered evergreen shrubs sprouted new, dazzling green shoots, their leaves glossy and plump. Even the moss by the pond spread a thicker, brighter green. The entire courtyard erupted in unprecedented vitality, the air becoming extraordinarily fresh and sweet, as if the sunlight favored it, casting a soft golden glow. Word of this garden quickly spread among his retainers, earning it the beautiful name: the Garden of Lóriendil, meaning "Garden of the Dream-Favoured/Followers of Lórien."
Every morning and evening, Glorfindel would appear at the gate of the courtyard. This lord of the Golden Flower, with dazzling blond hair and a noble demeanor, personally carried a basket filled with clean clothes, fresh fruit, bread, and water. This was supposed to be the work of a squire, but a strange phenomenon compelled Turgon to assign Glorfindel personal responsibility: the first few elf warriors assigned to guard Meereen, after just a few days of interaction, all fell in love with this quiet, gentle, and eloquent human. They would spontaneously strike up conversations with Meereen during their shifts, listening to his stories of the forest and asking him about plants. In one particularly egregious incident, a young and impulsive guard, captivated by Meereen's descriptions of the stars beyond, attempted to sneak him out of the courtyard at night to gaze at the stars from the ramparts. This infuriated Turgon, who completely forbade any other guards from approaching. Only Glorfindel, with his unwavering willpower, sense of duty, and authority as lord, could resist the subtle allure of comfort that beckoned the elves and strictly enforce his watchful duties.
Ariel's external injuries had basically healed thanks to the herbs carefully prepared by the medical officers and the elves' inherent powerful vitality, but the vicious poison from Eol's poison arrow seemed to have left a deeper mark - a heavy feeling of fatigue that followed her everywhere, like an invisible chain wrapped around her soul, making the once energetic White Princess often feel weak, with a lingering trace of weariness between her brows.
She buried her guilt towards Meereen deep within her heart, and discovered that when he was around, her fatigue miraculously eased, bringing a long-lost sense of peace and comfort to her body and soul. Thus, she became a frequent visitor to the gardens, sitting on the stone bench by the pool, watching Meereen tend to the flowers or whispering to him. Whenever she arrived, Meereen would quietly place his palm on the back of her cool hand, guiding the gentle warmth within him, a barely perceptible glow, into her body. After each visit to the gardens of Lóriendir, the weariness in Arethel's eyes faded a little, her cheeks regained a touch of rosiness, and her spirits perceptibly lifted. Glorfindel watched silently from the doorway, his eyes, initially wary and scrutinizing, gradually mellowing into a subtle softness beneath his golden hair.
Glorfindel's demeanor also subtly changed. He no longer simply delivered the items silently. After setting down the basket, he began to pause briefly and engage in conversation with Meereen. He would recount interesting happenings in the city: a skilled craftsman's newly completed piece of exquisite silverware, a singer's moving new song, or the amusement of the young elves in the training grounds. His voice was elegant and melodious, with a uniquely elven composure.
Later, he began selecting books for Meereen from the palace's library, mostly Sindarin tomes on the flora of Middle-earth, atlases of the stars, or the history of Gondolin. He knew Meereen's thirst for knowledge, and these books were a great comfort in his confinement. Meereen was grateful, and the sight of them discussing the contents of scrolls around the stone table gradually became another harmonious scene in the garden. However, Glorfindel never relaxed his vigilance. His vision remained sharp, and he had a clear understanding of the boundaries of Meereen's activities. He struck a delicate balance between duty and affection.
Some time later, King Turgon summoned Glorfindel to his council chamber.
"Glorfindel, what are your observations about the human named Meereen?" Turgon sat upright on the throne, his voice calm and emotionless.
The Lord of the Golden Flower bowed slightly, his golden hair falling over his shoulders. "Your Majesty, after close observation over this period of time, I believe that Meereen Lóriandil holds no ill will toward Gondolin. He lives contentedly in his courtyard, devoted to tending the flowers and plants, and maintains a peaceful state of mind. His assistance to Princess Ariel is sincere and sustained, and the princess's recovery is clearly due to his special powers. He is thirsty for knowledge and holds in high respect the history and lore of the elves." Glorfindel paused, then added, "He truly possesses a calming and comforting quality. The guards' initial reaction was no accident. But so far, this quality has shown no signs of manipulation or danger; it rather emanates naturally, like sunlight or a clear spring."
Turgon was silent for a moment, his knuckles tapping lightly on the armrests of the throne. Glorfindel's judgment was corroborated by the information he had obtained through other channels. "It seems that Aretil was not wrong about Finrod, and his judgment is trustworthy." He finally spoke, "In that case, there is no need to isolate him from the rest of his people. Allow the elves to visit him in the courtyard under your supervision. His range of activities may be appropriately expanded to the corridors connected to the courtyard. But," Turgon's eyes became sharp, "he must never touch the core secrets and defense layout of Gondolin. His actions are still under your supervision. The order of house arrest has not been lifted."
"As you command." Glorfindel accepted the order, feeling a little relieved for Meereen, but he also knew that the king had not relaxed his caution.
News spread quickly, and the elves of Gondolin were already filled with curiosity about the human who had rescued the White Princess, been secretly housed by the King, and had brought a miraculous life to their small garden. They rarely encountered humans, let alone such a unique being. For the first few days, the elves could only observe the figure busy or reading in the garden from a distance, reserved and shy, from behind the arches of the corridors or the high windows. His golden hair, deep eyes, and calm demeanor were all different from those of an elf, yet strangely unobtrusive.
Some bold or enthusiastic elves broke the silence. An elf who was good at baking bravely walked into the courtyard with a small basket of freshly baked elf cookies that exuded the aroma of honey and nuts. He placed the basket on the stone table, smiled shyly at the somewhat surprised Meereen, and hurried away.
This seemed to open the floodgates. Next came the bard, who played a soft forest song for Meereen by the pool; then came the curious young craftsmen, who brought the little wooden birds they had carved to show; and even the older scholars, who discussed the unique flowers of Gondolin based on the plant atlas in Meereen's hand.
Meereen greeted every visitor with gentle kindness. He listened patiently, offered sincere praise, and shared his limited knowledge of the forest. His quiet wisdom and unassuming manner of speech quickly won the favor of the elves. His kindness in saving Aridil had long been known throughout the city, and his intangible, comforting presence swiftly assimilated him into Gondolin life. The small "Garden of Lóriandil" became a vibrant, welcoming corner of the city, often filled with the sounds of gentle conversation and cheerful laughter. Even Turgon himself would occasionally wander into the courtyard between his busy affairs, sit for a moment on the stone bench by the pool, and take in the unique tranquility and vibrant vitality of the place, a rare flicker of relaxation between his dignified brows.
However, not everyone was free to explore this new and surprising garden. Princess Idril, the jewel of Gondolin and Turgon's only daughter, was privately and strictly forbidden by her father to even approach the east wing of Meereen. Turgon's reasoning was simple: Meereen's identity and power were still unknown, and Idril, still young and in need of protection, should not be exposed to such complex beings too early.
But this prohibition only ignited a fire of curiosity within Idril. Why did everyone like going to that garden? Why was even the serious Uncle Glorfindel willing to chat with that human? Why did my father allow others to go, but only forbid me? What was so special about that human? Idril felt that her father's reaction spoke for itself. That human named Meereen must be hiding some great secret.
So, the clever and stubborn little princess began to exploit her familiarity with the palace's secret passages and her grasp of the guards' patrol patterns to launch her covert operations. Like a nimble silver bird, she avoided her father's eyes and the guards' sight, sneaking into the area adjacent to the garden. She hid behind vine-covered stone pillars, concealed in the shadows of tall shrubs, or crouched beside the inconspicuous carved window frames above the corridors, secretly observing everything in the courtyard with her bright eyes filled with curiosity and inquiry.
She saw how Meereen tenderly tended the flowers, the plants breathing life into them with the touch of his fingertips. She watched him converse with visiting elves, a gentle smile on his face that seemed to radiate to those around him. She saw him absorbed in his reading, his profile as still as an ancient statue. She even saw the relaxed, dependent look on her aunt Aretiel's face as she sat beside him. All of this intensified her curiosity and confusion: Why was her father so wary of this man who seemed so gentle and harmless?
Meereen's senses were acute, and he quickly sensed that, beyond those open, benevolent glances, there seemed to be a hidden, constant gaze watching him. This gaze lacked Eol's cold scrutiny and assessment, nor did it harbor any malice. Instead, it was more like a pure, childish curiosity, a cautious, surveilling gaze. It shifted from behind vines to on the window frame, its gaze shifting erratically. Initially wary, Meereen sensed no danger, so he let it go, though he couldn't help but smile. Life in Gondolin seemed more lively than he'd imagined.
Finally one day, when that gaze once again fell on the back of Milin who was pruning a silver star flower, he stopped what he was doing and turned to Glorfindel who was reading a star atlas beside him.
"Lord Glorfindel," Meereen said calmly, with a barely perceptible smile in his voice. "In recent days, I've felt like someone has been watching me from outside the garden. It's not malicious, just very focused." He chose his words carefully, "like a curious little creature."
Glorfindel raised his head from the book, his golden eyebrows slightly frowned, and a trace of real confusion flashed in his blue eyes: "Observing you? His Highness Turgon has already lifted the restrictions. The elves in the city can come to the garden as guests openly. Who needs to sneak around..." His words stopped abruptly. An idea struck him like lightning. His face instantly became a little strange. His eyes swept sharply to the corners around the garden that were suitable for hiding, and finally stopped behind a column covered with dense star-shaped vines.
Glorfindel put the scroll down, stood up silently and swiftly, and walked towards the pillars silently like a golden panther ready to pounce. Meereen stood there, watching with interest.
Glorfindel suddenly stretched out his hand and pushed aside the layers of vines.
"Ah!" A small exclamation was heard.
Behind the vines, a small figure in an exquisite silver dress crouched, clutching a flat piece of bark used for recording. Her face was filled with panic at being discovered and a mixture of unconcealed curiosity. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the vines, illuminating her silver-gold hair and eyes as blue as the summer sky, now wide and wide. It was none other than Princess Idril, the Pearl of Gondolin.
Glorfindel looked at the innocent yet slightly stubborn little princess before him, speechless for a moment, feeling both angry and amused. He sighed helplessly, placing one hand on his chest and bowing, "Princess Idril... what are you doing here?"
Idril quickly glanced at Meereen who was smiling at her not far away. Her little face flushed slightly, but then she raised her chin and said confidently (although her voice was a little weak): "I... I am studying the growth patterns of vines! The vines here... here grow particularly well!" But her gaze unconsciously drifted to Meereen again.
Meereen's smile deepened as he watched this amusing scene, while Glorfindel pressed his forehead. It seemed that the difficulty of the "guarding" task entrusted to him by His Majesty the King might increase dramatically.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
