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finnritter · 1 year

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fit prompt: Where does Turgon get Glamdring?

Turgon watched the last of his lords trickle out of the meeting room, eager to go about their day after several long and exhausting discussions, until he alone remained behind in the empty room.

He opened a window, stretched his stiff shoulders and leaned down to rest his arms on the windowsill, enjoying just for a moment the fresh air stroking his face and the breathtaking view over his city.

The moment he would step out of this room, he would have to retreat to his own studies, back to long-overdue (how was it always long-overdue, no matter how diligently he tried to catch up?) paperwork that he would spend the rest of the day absorbed in.

He loved to take those five minutes in between, when he could do nothing but exist, if only for a blink in time.

He had also noticed, with a spark of amusement, that those were usually the moments when someone would inevitably interrupt him, usually with the latest news of a crisis or an incident or any urgent sensation that was clearly not insolvable by anyone but the king, and still usually got taken to him. It happened alarmingly often, maybe that was why the paperwork never got done.

But today it seemed like he would be disappointed in this regard after all, and he already braced himself for the boredom of the evening, when he heard quick, light footsteps approaching from the hallway, which could only belong to Idril.

He turned around with a smile just as the huge door was pulled open and he was greeted by his daughter’s inquiring eye. Her face lit up as she spotted him.

“Ah, there you are!”

He crossed the room with a few long strides, until he could speak to her without raising his voice.

“You have been looking for me?”

“I want to show you something.”

Her briefness, paired with the telling smile tugging at her lips, made him assume that she would not be sharing much more until she had shown him whatever it was that she had prepared for him. He still asked her about it, curiously, while already holding the door for her and letting her lead him towards the main exit of the palace.

“It is a secret, Atya. A surprise”

“What is the date?”, Turgon asked with exaggerated shock. “Have I missed my own begetting day?”

“You wish”, Idril said with a rather unsettling twinkle in her eyes. “There is no way you would miss what Glorfindel has actually planned for your begetting day. No, although it is a gift, in a way, this is more part of a greater plan that has been brewing for a while now.”

“Now, you’re making it interesting. Why is it that you never tell me of your plans beforehand?”

“That is because the moment I, or anyone, tell you of an idea, you need to get involved yourself and can’t let go of it. It has proven to be way less nerve-wracking for all people involved to just present you with a fait accompli.”

She smiled sweetly at him and all his protests at her – unfortunately rather apt – depiction of his character melted into a half-hearted sigh.

“And this ‘fait accompli’ of yours is hidden in… where are you leading me? The forge?”

“Precisely.”

More was not to be winkled out of her, and so Turgon, who was secretly considering how much more things were being dealt with behind his back for the exact same reason, just resigned himself to his fate and followed her.

…

The secret, as she had called it, was actually waiting for him just outside the royal forge, held by an elf that Turgon recognized to be Angûr, arguably the best blacksmith of the House of the Hammer of wrath. In front of him, actually hiding the object of interest, stood another elf, currently studying it intently.

“Are you certain that he will like it? Maybe we should change the design of the gems after all, it does seem a little over the top, now that I think about it, I just couldn’t help myself. But maybe, before he sees it-”

Turgon frowned and Angûr, who seemed to have heard them approach unlike his companion, met his eyes and bowed his head. Turgon had never heard him speak, unsure if he couldn’t, or didn’t choose to after having been enslaved by the enemy for a long time, but his amused side-eye towards his companion – who Turgon deemed to recognize at once – spoke volumes.

“Angûr”, Turgon greeted, even more curious than before. “Enerdhil.”

The latter spun around at once as he heard his name being called and immediately stumbled into a rather frenzied bow.

“My King”, he exclaimed, once he had gathered himself. “I did not expect you here so soon.”

“And I did not expect to see you today, at all, albeit I’m pleased to see you faring well”, he said, sending an inquisitive look towards Idril, who had jumped up to sit on a low wall and watched the scene unfold with a curious smile.

“Ah, so you see, your fair daughter has commissioned a sword for from us”, Enerdhil explained, as she made no movement to answer. “It is to be yours, my King.”

“A sword?”, Turgon asked, still directed towards Idril. “I have a sword.”

“Enerdhil had an idea”, she said, open in her admiration for the young smith, who had grown to be a rather close friend to her. “To enforce weapons with magical Intent. He is the one who should be explaining de details, but I quite liked the idea and Rog and I gave the two of them permission to experiment with it. It is a prototype, so to speak.”

Turgon’s gaze wandered over to the two smiths, and now, as Enerdhil had stepped aside, he could see the sword, too. It was beautiful, he realized, before a wave of shame hit him at the knowledge that his first impression of a deadly weapon had been its beauty. But even at the second glance, there was no denying it.

The smooth steel of the blade gleamed almost white in the sunlight, and there were intricate carvings adorning its cross-guard and ricasso. Even the hilt was run through with gold and something that looked like ivory, ruel-bone maybe, and at last the pommel was decorated with two white gems, one on each side.

It did not look like a weapon that was meant to be stained with blood and gore, but then again, Turgon hoped that there wouldn’t be much need for excessive bloodshed in the next time, altogether.

As if he knew why Turgon was hesitating, Angûr wordlessly held it out to him at the hilt, an encouraging smile on his lips.

Turgon took it, swung it around by way of trial. It was a lot shorter than every sword everyone had ever forged for him, but inherently way better balanced and easier to wield so that Turgon, who had never been the most skilled swordsman after all, could easily forgive the slight loss of reach.

“It is beautifully balanced”, he said, complementary, but it must have been obvious that he still didn’t quite understand the intent of a gift such as this one, and Enerdhil cleared his throat.

“That is all Angûr’s work. It is a marvellous weapon on its own, one worthy for a king, in times of peace and war alike”, he said. “But its true strength, and the true reason a simple jewel-smith such as myself decided to get involved in a project like this, lies in those carvings, you see.”

He gestured for Turgon to hold the blade steady and ran his nimble fingers over the delicate runes that were etched into the steel. Turgon noticed his voice becoming more certain and clear the more he spoke about his work, and listened intently.

“They are not only for decoration”, he said. “Those runes at the top bind the sword to its wielder and their purpose, and they are meant to protect them, to a certain degree. They absorb some of the force of impact above the blade, meaning that blocking and even hard hits are easier on the hands. It is fairly practical and works quite well, you can try it out later, if you wish.”

“That seems practical, indeed”, Turgon considered. “And those runes on the blade? What are they for?”

“They”, Enerdhil said. “Are the truly fun part. And the experimental part, for we are actually not quite sure if and how they will work, in the end.

They are meant to protect the wielder from foes, the lowly henchmen of the Enemy specifically, and as you can read in the wording of the runes, they are meant to deal orcs great damage in particular.”

“Meant to?”

“Well, we had no orcs to try it out on, so… What exactly will happen remains a mystery. But that is the fun part of magic, after all. You just light the spark, set in some gems to keep it glowing, and what happens after that is out of your hands.”

Turgon did not find this very encouraging, but the young smith sounded so pleased with himself, his eyes gleaming with an expression of pure creative energy that was so particularly Noldorin that Turgon couldn’t help but be intrigued by the magnificence of the creation. He swung it around some more, getting a feel for its astoundingly light weight in his hand, and asked a lot of questions that Enerdhil eagerly answered.

“I like it”, he decided in the end, genuinely. “Thank you for making this for me, I’m sure it will accomplish great deeds when it is next needed, although I hope that this day still lies in the distant future.”

“I don’t doubt it, my King”, Enerdhil answered with a bow, not elaborating which part of the sentence he was agreeing to.

“Oh and Enerdhil”, Turgon added, as Angûr was sheathing the blade with the look of a parent who was sending his child out on their own for the first time. “I may know someone who will undoubtedly love this idea. If you ever think about improving on your prototype, better make one for the Lord Ecthelion as well.”

#yes the last part is about orcrist #i love the fanon theory that it was ecthelion’s sword mainly for It would be cool-reasons #tysm for the prompt!!#it took me a long time to finish bc glamdring-logistics are complicated #i still have heachaches thinking about how a sword for Mr. Top 3 tallest elves can later be comfortably wielded by Gandalf #and how they got the magic-glowing thingy to work without actual orcs to test it on is also a riddle #I vastly underexplained all my thoughts on this topic here I think I'll have to write an essay-post about this sometime later bc I do have-#some cool ideas #also turgon being surprised at the amount of unnecessary minor things that are brought before him directly #while also giving of the vibes of someone who wants to be involved in everything (which he does.) is very important to me #he trusts his people's skills he really does #but he also needs to know everything at all times #everyone who knows him well is just fondly exasperated over this #(whoops this got long but I have many thoughts-tm)#silmarillion #turgon #idril #glamdring #enerdhil #(lots of thoughts about him too!!)#silm fic #prompt fill #my writing

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