Chapter Text
It was forbidden. He knew it. Of course he trusted the King, his uncle , but he had
been locked up most of his life, first by his father then by his uncle. Every single
chance to get out of the fortress of high mountains encircling the white city. It
was usual for the Lord of the House of the Mole to be out of the city for a few
weeks. Searching for ore in the mountains takes its time, no matter if inside or
outside the wall-like chain od the Echoriath. One of the mines was further north,
isolated but lucrative. No of his men he had with him, no even the ones he really
trusted. The King should not know about his trips outside. It made him feel
independent and free. Even though he had been a Lord for quite a while now but
to the hustle and bustle of the city he never got used. The mountains, mines and
forges were where he felt at home.
Dusk was slowly crawling out of the shadows as Arien sent her last rays of
ancient light over the sharp teeth of the Echoriath as Maeglin, Son of Eöl, Lord
of the House of the Mole of Gondolin and the King's sister's son, went down from
the mine made his way to the small camp he had set up for the time he stayed in
the mountains.
Suddenly something hit the elf's head and a troup of orcs crawled out of the
shadows attacking him throwing him down and taking his weapons sooner than
he could draw his black blade. He fought and stabbed a few of his foes with a
dagger but soon they even took this from him. They tied him up and spoke in
hissed sounds in the Dark Language. It wasn't direcly fear that caught the elf's
heart but something deeper and darker and he spoke up with a strng voice:
"Know then that I am Maeglin, son of Eöl who had to wife Aredhel sister of
Turgon king of the Gondothilim." But the orcs turned around with unimpressed
features, which shone in the dim light of the torch they had lit in the dark. Hissing
and spitting the orc that had spoken before to the others came closer to Maeglin.
" What is that to us?" To answer Maeglin sat up the best he could and
announced what he had on his mind with straight back. "Much it is to you; for you
slay me, be it speedy or slow, ye will lose great tidings concerning the city of
Gondolin that your master would rejoice to hear." After a small discussion
between a few of them, the orcs decided to lend the elf their ears and to hear
about the secrets of the hidden city. "Tell us more, elf. How shall we know if ye
are speaking true." So Maeglin continued his speech telling the faul creatures
which encircled him about hight and thickness of the walls and the king's troups
and their equipment.
In his mind the king's sister son hoped they would still keep him alive instead of
killing him right away after gaining the information they had just heard. And his
thoughts were cut by the spitting sound of the orcs voice again. "Now that we
have what you gave to our Lord Melkor, we can kill ye, pathetic elfen prince." But
Maeglin was anything but pathetic and cought on the words directed to him
without much further thought. "Think ye not that ye would rather pleasure your
master if ye bore to his feet so noble a captive, that he might hear my tidings of
himself and judge of their verity?" Thereafter the orcs pulled him up on his feet
and draged him through small paths of the mountains, about to take Maeglin to
Angband to the Lord and Master.