40. Tapestries: The Trees of Gondolin

The towers of Gondolin aspired above the morning mist; austere towers of steel and cement and limestone, sturdy as cliffs and delicate as silver rods.

Isil and Anor circled in the sky above the hidden city, Tilion mooning over Arien as she ever evaded him with her golden ship, their paths an eternal dance of unrequited love.

Turgon watched them, and in his eyes was the light of Aman, for he was mighty among the Eldar of old, and he remembered the light of the Two Trees for which the Moon and Sun were just a pale reflection. Like a thousand splendid suns shone Laurelin before the Darkening of Valinor, and Turgon remembered that light. In its memory he wrought the images of the Two Trees in Gondolin - the golden Glingal and silver Belthil.

Under those trees, two of his captains liked to sit. Glorfindel leaned on the cool gold of Glingal, watching Ecthelion doing the same with Belthil.

"Let us take lunch under our trees," they talked among themselves, when Turgon could not hear them. From there they watched the city when they were off duty, and after Eärendil was born, he often came there with his nurse Meleth to listen to their stories.

Gondolin was preparing for the celebration of Midsummer, but instead - an attack came. From the two trees, it was Belthil that fell first, its silver melting in the fire of balrogs, cut down by their flails, falling to the ground like tears. Glingal lasted longer, resisting the heat and flames, but finally, it fell as well, and the trees of Gondolin were no more.

But Tuor and Idril escaped with their son, and new hope was born for Middle-earth. That hope bore the light of the Two Trees, the living light trapped in a jewel.