In our previous episode on the final great tale of the First Age, the Fall of Gondolin,
we detailed Tuor’s coming to the great city and the trials and tribulations which came with the
journey from the North. Yet as he prepared to face the judgement of the Warden of the Great Gate,
unbeknownst to Tuor or his companion Voronwe the decision to admittance was to bring with
it a great tragedy and, ultimately, the salvation of the free peoples.
However, for now, we will continue our retelling of the Fall of Gondolin through the treachery and
the great deeds of valour of the Gondolindrim in the dying days of their city’s existence.
The captain of the Dark Guard, Elemmakil, decided to bring Tuor and Voronwe to the Warden
to deliberate upon their fates. The pair was first marched through the Gate of Wood and informed that
no stranger could go back through a gate they had passed. The company of three continued a
half league before coming to the second gate, the Gate of Stone, the Gate of Bronze followed this,
and eventually, the fourth gate, the Gate of Writhen Iron, which was the most
imposing fortification in all of Beleriand, rivalled only by the very gates of Angband.
Passing through the unflinching and formidable Iron Guard, the fifth gate, the Gate of Silver,
followed, and at last, the final ancient gate of Turgon, the Golden Gate, lay before the company.
Elemmakil ensured their entrance by dint of the status he maintained among the guard, yet Tuor was
struck by just how formidable the fortifications and the guards who manned the gates were.
However, he still bore the warning of Ulmo close to his heart and endeavoured to ensure
that Turgon was made aware of the doom which lay at the journey’s end for the Gondolindrim.
Elemmakil led Tuor and Voronwe the short distance to the seventh gate, the Gate of Steel, which
Maeglin had wreaked after the Nirnaeth Aernoediad to cover the span of the wide entrance to the
Orfalch Echor. Elemmakil strode forward to the great towers of the final gate and struck a bar,
which caused a noise reminiscent of a harp to ring out. Riders issued forth at this call, yet
at the forefront, far ahead of his compatriots, came a rider upon a magnificent white steed.
The elf who approached the trio dismounted with incomparable grace and elegance, which left Tuor
and Voronwe in awe of a being of such regal majesty. For Ecthelion, Lord of the Fountains
and Warden of the Great Gate, had come forth, a mighty warrior among the highest echelons of
the Eldar race of the First Age and one for whom his mere presence demanded respect and deference.
His mail was of gleaming silver; upon his head lay a majestic helm complete with a spike,
with which was the adornment of a beautiful diamond at its point, and most imposing of
all was his shield, which shimmered with the beauty of a thousand studs of crystal.
Elemmakil introduced the warden to his charges and at once Ecthelion turned his noble visage
upon the stranger in their midst: the very essence of fate hung upon Tuor as a mist,
which enlarged his presence to such a degree that his stature seemed to be even greater than that
of the Lord of the Fountains himself. Ecthelion was wed to his duty and duly informed Tuor that
he would never leave the valley once he entered as was the dictate of the law of his people:“You
have come to the last gate. Know then that no stranger who passes it shall ever go out again,
save by the door of Death.” Tuor was undaunted by what was
nought more than a thinly veiled threat and, with his head held high, responded:
“Speak not ill boding! If the messenger of the Lord of Waters go by that door, then all those who
dwell here will follow him. Lord of the Fountains, hinder not the message of the Lord of Waters!”
Those gathered, Ecthelion amongst them, were left bewildered, for the weight of the words which
Tuor had uttered seemed otherworldly in their impact upon the Elves. Voronwe, in particular,
felt that the words of Tuor came from far away in a voice of such grandeur that they carried upon
the mountains and valleys to sway the Warden of the Great Gate and his retinue. Yet Tuor was left
entirely unaware of the power with which his words now carried and believed they had merely come from
his own lips. However, Ulmo himself it would seem, would not let his favoured people fall
within the grasp of Morgoth while he had the power to sway events, and at that very moment,
the fate of Gondolin hung upon a knife’s edge. Ecthelion was silent for a long time, yet as the
silence hung upon those gathered outside the final gate, his awe for the man of the House of Hador
who stood before him and the tidings he brought with him grew exponentially. Wordlessly the Warden
of the Great Gate bowed to Tuor, turned and placed his hands upon the gate, and it opened inwardly,
confirming that the son of Huor was now to live amongst the Gondolindrim for the years to come.
Tuor stepped through the great Gate of Iron onto a high plateau which looked out across a valley.
Deep within this valley were the gleaming white towers of Gondolin, framed by white snow. Tuor,
raised in the far North, was left speechless by the view of the hidden city and stood dumbfounded
for a long time as he gazed upon Turgon’s domain. Yet as this silent vigil continued,
the cloak which had hidden Tuor from the numerous servants of the Dark Lord throughout his travels,
was torn from his shoulders by the mighty winds of the high plateau. In this seemingly insignificant
act of the wind, the livery of Nevrast was revealed and those gathered were awestruck,
as long ago did they remember that their king had left these garments behind the High Seat of
Vinyamar. With this was Ecthelion finally swayed towards total acceptance of the stranger who had
come unbidden to his gate, declaring: “Now no further proof is needed; and even the name he
claims as son of Huor matters less than this clear proof, that he comes from Ulmo himself.”
Tuor was then led to King Turgon to present before the leader of the last great free city
of Beleriand the warning of Ulmo. A great crowd of elves came to the audience to gaze upon one of
the only strangers to have ever been welcomed to the city. Although the city was a marvel
in and of itself, none of the architecture of the Gondolindrim could match the beauty of the
palace in which Turgon dwelt. For at either side of the door of this vast structure were the great
trees Glingol and Bansil, one of gold and the other silver, the great offshoots of the trees
of Valinor before the devastation of Morgoth and Ungoliant had been wrought upon the undying land.
Turgon strode forth clad in white and welcomed the weary and well-travelled youth to his hidden city.
Once more, Ulmo granted great power to the voice of Tuor as he bore with him the warning of the
Valar. However, Turgon’s pride in the city’s defences roused by the council of Maeglin,
as well as his certainty as to the hidden nature of Gondolin, ensured that he could not
be swayed. Tuor and Voronwe were distraught by the callous dismissal of such a warning,
particularly after the trials and tribulations of their journey. They now despaired as to
where their future lay. Turgon, despite his pride, remained an honourable and wise leader
of the Elves and, after some deliberation, bade the pair to remain within the valley.
Our chronicler does not detail the entirety of Tuor’s stay within the realm of Gondolin.
However, it is noted that on many occasions, Tuor was tested, wishing to return to the forest and
listen to the call of Ulmo to return to the sea. Yet he remained, for he bore a great love for one
amongst the Gondolindrim, the daughter of King Turgon, Idril Celebrindal. Initially,
such a pairing would have seemed unfathomable in the eyes of the King and his citizens.
However, after many years in Gondolin, Tuor had risen to become one of the foremost members of
the Gondolindrim, for he had embraced his place within the hidden valley and accepted
instruction from Voronwe and several other prominent members of the city.
In so doing, Tuor’s physical and spiritual stature was greatly enhanced, in such a
manner which supplemented the blessings which Ulmo had already bestowed upon him.
In this time, the love between Tuor and Idril had blossomed, and fortunately for the couple, so too
had Turgon’s respect and admiration for Huor’s son. As such, the King’s blessing was granted,
and Tuor was wed to Idril before the gathered Gondolindrim at the Gar Ainon, the Place of the
Gods. Joy filled the hearts of all gathered, save that of Maeglin, the nephew of the King,
for he had come to lust over Idril and the station which would be afforded to him should they be wed.
A spiteful longing and anger soon came to the forefront of Maeglin’s thoughts, which was to
have devastating consequences for the hidden city and its denizens. However, the newlywed couple was
unaware of the devastation to be wrought due to their love and continued their lives within the
city, bringing forth a child Eärendil, who would come to have a significant bearing upon the dying
days of the First Age and also, in turn, come to sire a certain Elrond and his brother Elros.
Even as Tuor embarked upon the happiest epoch of his life, dark clouds loomed upon the horizon of
the hidden valley. For the tragedy of the Children of Hurin had played out unbeknownst to those
hidden within Gondolin, and as Turin Turambar breathed his last upon the black blade Anglachel,
Húrin was released from his captivity. Yet he emerged a spiteful and broken old man after
enduring the combined torture of the Dark Lord’s servants and that of the curse of Morgoth upon
his children, which played out before his very eyes. His final days amongst the free peoples
were to have devastating consequences for those he had once sacrificed all for in his desperate
rearguard action. A cruel irony given his cries of “Aure entuluva!”, “day will come again” during the
Nirnaeth Aernoediad that his final actions would usher in one of the darkest days of the First Age.
Yet it was in his cries to Turgon for aid within the vale of Sirion that the final hammer blow
was to be wrought, for in doing so, he revealed to Morgoth the area within which the most significant
remaining Elven Kingdom persisted. Too late did the great eagles come to bring this broken remnant
of a mighty warrior to a final form of respite, and in doing so Húrin’s final heart-breaking end
was all but confirmed. From this day onwards, the Dark Lord ordered a watch to be placed upon
Sirion, in order to benefit from the culmination of the curse placed upon the House of Hador.
This was to pay dividends for Morgoth, as Maeglin, always seeking advancement within the Kingdom,
set out to search the lands outside the Encircling Mountains for metal deposits.
This was in direct contravention to the decrees of his uncle Turgon and in this disobedient folly,
Maeglin was captured by the watchers Morgoth had placed in the region.
The nephew of the King was brought before Morgoth himself, who threatened unimaginable suffering and
torment if Maeglin would not provide the location of the hidden city. Maeglin initially refused
to cower before the weight of these threats, yet this spurt of courageous defiance was not to last,
and he provided all of the information the Dark Lord sought. To fully ensure the allegiance of
the nephew of King Turgon, Morgoth utilized the honeyed words which had served him so well up
until this point and promised him the rule of the city and the hand of Idril in marriage.
The bitter resentment of Maeglin towards Tuor once more came to the fore, and he readily accepted
this promise before returning to the city to aid the invasion from within. Gondolin’s defences had
grown lax throughout the years of safety enjoyed by the Gondolindrim, however, even with this
knowledge, Morgoth remained patient. As he had learned his lesson from the Nirnaeth Aernoediad
and diligently planned the assault over several years to ensure his victory and his dominance
of Beleriand would be complete following the total destruction of the hidden city.
However, this is a tale for our next video on the history of the First Age,
which will focus on the Fall of Gondolin and the heroic final stand of the Gondolindrim
waged against the innumerable hosts of the Dark Lord and without any true hope of prevailing.
The next few videos in this series will be dedicated to the last desperate battles of
this age before the sundering of Beleriand in the War of Wrath,
but we are planning to cover the battles of many other fantasy, sci-fi, and space opera universes,
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