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Celebrimbor was shaking
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—no, scratch that—Celebrimbor was terrified.

In the past few hours, his anxiety had only grown, his hands trembling uncontrollably as he realized the person was arriving at that very moment.

He had paced back and forth in the room, desperately trying to calm himself, though fear gripped him like nothing before. He hadn’t even felt this level of dread when Mairon… Sauron, had captured and killed him. No, this was something deeper, something innate.

His throat went dry as he tapped his fingers against his arms, pacing again and again—just as his father, Curufin, had done in the castle hall along with the rest of the Finwëans, including Gil-galad and Elrond.

“Calm down, Tyelpe,” Gil-galad said.

“Calm down!? I can’t calm down!” Celebrimbor shouted, panic rising as the world seemed to slow around him. Gil-galad could only sigh.

Gil-galad was his cousin, the son of his uncle Maedhros and Fingon, which was no surprise to anyone who knew the family.

Suddenly, Celebrimbor felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Elrond offering a gentle smile.

“It can’t be that bad, right?” Elrond said softly.

Celebrimbor violently shook his head.

“It is… very bad,” He whispered, glancing toward his other uncles, who were visibly trembling but none more so than his Atar, who looked close to fainting, pale and shaking violently.

So, you may be curious about what happened—why don’t we rewind a bit…

Celebrimbor was in his room, looking at himself in the mirror to make sure nothing was wrong before leaving. It had been a decade since the entire Finwëan family had been reunited, from the first generation to the current one.

They were about to have their very first family dinner at the castle in Tirion, arranged by Haru Finwe, who had now been re-embroidered much to Celebrimbor’s relief, as the anchor was finally back.

Though he was still haunted by Mai… Sauron to this day, by his betrayal and deceit. He had believed the Fallen Maia was a good friend, someone he could finally trust, but it had all been nothing but an illusion.

He had trusted him against his better judgment, ignoring the warnings of his aunt Galadriel and cousin Gil-galad. He had been a fool. After being re-embroidered, he went to his aunt to apologize for not believing her—and for doubting Gil-galad as well.

He was glad that both of them understood and accepted his apology, even though he felt he didn’t deserve it for trusting a stranger over his own family. Still, he was a little sad that he could never apologize to his dwarf friend Narvi or tell her that she had been right all along.

Celebrimbor then arrived at the dinner hall, where a long table had been set, packed with relatives—from Haru Feanor to Finduilas.

He could even see Maeglin engaged in conversation with Orodeth, which was a surprise, while ignoring Idril, who was trying to strike up a conversation with him.

Though he couldn’t blame Maeglin for ignoring Idril, especially after learning the truth of what had truly happened in Gondolin beyond the fabricated nonsense that had been published, which was quickly dismissed by those who knew the real story.

He could still remember the day Aredhel had snapped when the truth came to light. She had slapped Turgon so hard that blood appeared, scolding him so fiercely that the rest had to hold her back. She had expected her older brother to love and care for Maeglin in her place, and knowing what actually happened had enraged her.

Idril had tried to intervene, only to be slapped herself, much to everyone’s surprise. Aredhel, who adored her niece, berated her for being ungrateful and spoiled, expressing her disappointment in what Idril had become. Even Idril’s mother, Lady Eärwen, had stood beside Aredhel, looking coldly and disappointed at both her husband and daughter.

Truthfully, Celebrimbor had never liked Idril as a cousin. She was spoiled and arrogant, which had caused him to distance himself from her. Her behavior had become unbearable..so much so that even Orodeth, who was known as the most arrogant of their generation of cousins, found her overwhelming at times.

With a sigh, Celebrimbor took his seat beside his father, now reconciled after their meeting in the Halls of Namo. He knew he had his own faults as well.
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The table was laid with a variety of delicious dishes, scattered across its length as everyone chatted, catching up and sharing stories while waiting for Finwë to arrive.

The room buzzed with warmth and laughter, a long-awaited reunion in full swing, until finally, Finwë entered and the meal began.

It was a joyous occasion, laughter echoing through the hall until the doors of the dining hall were suddenly slammed open, startling everyone. Reflexively, many went into a defensive stance, only to exhale in relief when they saw it was just Rumil.

“What’s wrong, my dear friend?”

Finwë asked, walking toward him. Rumil was panting heavily, taking deep, ragged breaths as if he had been running.

“He… he’s back,”

Rumil managed between pants. Finwë frowned in confusion, while the rest of the Finwëans drew closer. Rumil took a deep breath and stood upright, his face pale, shaking, and drawn. The sight of him sent shivers through those who watched.

“Elerion… is back,” he finally said.

Celebrimbor’s hand went to his chest at the memory, his whole body shivering at the thought.

You might be wondering who Elerion is… well… Elerion is…

A sudden silence fell over the hall, thick enough that it felt as if the very air had frozen.

Then, the doors of the hall opened again, and a wave of tension swept through the room. Eyes widened, breaths caught, and faces went pale, especially among Finwë’s grandchildren.

The sound of heavy, measured footsteps echoed ominously through the hall, each step making hearts race and palms sweat except for those born in Middle-earth, who had no memory of the fear it carried.

“I’m home,” a voice rang out, low and commanding.

The hall fell completely silent. The sheer presence of the speaker sent chills down spines, hairs standing on end, as if unseen danger bells were ringing in their minds. Every corner of the hall seemed to vibrate with the weight of magic, anger, and disappointment, pressing down on everyone like an invisible storm.

And there he was, in Celebrimbor’s eyes. An Elerion with brunette hair tied into a high ponytail, clad in black, his green eyes glowing with gold. Emerald earrings glimmered at his ears, and a silver ring adorned his hand, catching the light as he moved.

It was Elerion—Celebrimbor’s other parent, the one who had given him life, a Maia under Eru Ilúvatar himself ( Which suprise them upon learning the truth ), kin to Namo, the Judge of Death, and Curufin’s spouse.

Celebrimbor felt his throat tighten as Elerion’s footsteps drew closer, each echo in the hall heavy with an ominous weight.

He could have sworn even Haru Finwë was trembling, instinctively shrinking away from the Maia. Elerion was angry. Very, very angry. And understandably so..no one wanted to face the full measure of his wrath, not even his own son.

Elerion was usually gentle and mischievous, the kind of Maia who brought laughter and warmth. But when he was angered, it spelled doom.

The entire city of the Noldor had learned that lesson long ago: never, under any circumstances, provoke him. Those who did were cast aside as sacrifices and fled, lest they draw his wrath upon themselves.

Celebrimbor recalled a memory from his childhood that still left a lingering trauma, despite all the years that had passed.

He was six decades old, still a naughty elfling, and had been warned to be careful while helping his Atar with chores—he was meant to assist, not hire a servant.

But in his usual mischief, he broke some plates. Elerion, already in a sour mood, had initially let it slide. But then his Atto, Curufin, fanned the flames with his own aggravation, and suddenly his Atar snapped.

The memory of that day was seared into Celebrimbor’s mind. That was the day he had learned true fear. That was the day he had understood that even his Atto was no match for Elerion’s authority.

The punishment had been harsh, a lesson in “tough love” that neither he nor Curufin would forget. And now… now, seeing Elerion here again, that old fear came rushing back tenfold.

“I had heard what happened,”

Elerion said slowly, his eyes narrowing as they swept across the hall. The room had fallen utterly silent; even the maids and servants had fled, leaving nothing but the tense, frozen air.

Celebrimbor could see Haru Finwë squirming in his seat, while the rest of his uncles avoided Elerion’s gaze entirely—a smart move, as no one wanted to add fuel to the fire.

“And all I can say,” Elerion continued, his voice low and cold, “I am disappointed.”

The words dropped into the hall like a weight, stiffening the atmosphere further. Even Celebrimbor’s cousin, born in Middle-earth and unfamiliar with the Noldorin way, shifted uncomfortably at the edge of the table.

“I have been gone for a while,” Elerion added, his tone slicing through the air, “and yet what have I heard? How disappointing.”

“Curufinwë Atarince,”

Elerion called sharply, his voice commanding attention. The entire room stiffened. Pitying glances fell upon Curufin, including from Finwë, while some secretly exhaled in relief that they had not been summoned.

When Curufin’s eyes met Elerion’s, a silent standoff ensued. No one dared make a sound, much less risk drawing the attention of an already enraged Maia. Celebrimbor watched as his Atto approached his wife fearfully, his body visibly tense.

Then it happened, a sharp slap echoed through the hall, making everyone wince. The sound seemed to resonate in every corner of the room.

It was expected, and yet seeing it unfold was chilling. Elerion’s cold gaze lingered on his husband for a moment before sweeping over the rest of the hall. When his eyes met Celebrimbor’s, the younger Maia felt a rush of nerves but all he received was a gentle nod, a small reassurance amidst the terror.

Elerion’s gaze moved on, and his voice carried again, firm and unyielding:

“I want an explanation—tonight. And I expect you all to be present.”

All nodded in obedient agreement. Slowly, Elerion turned and left, his footsteps echoing ominously until they faded. The tension finally broke. Many exhaled in relief, some collapsing to the floor, patting their chests, silently thankful to have survived the wrath. Others cast sympathetic glances at Curufin, who was nursing his stinging cheek from the slap.

“Your Atar is… scary,” Gil-galad whispered, sweat forming at his temple as he tried to steady his racing heart.

Elrond nodded, sharing the sentiment. The aura of power reminded them of Sauron but far more unpredictable, far more dangerous. Yet curiosity lingered in Elrond’s mind; he wondered why there had been so little information about this Maia, why his father had never spoken of him.

Shaking his head, Elrond turned his attention away from where Elerion had departed. It was not his problem. He knew exactly when to set boundaries, when to speak, and when to stay silent—he was not Elros, after all.

“So… how did your Atar manage to score a spouse like that?”

A voice spoke, making Celebrimbor turn around. He saw that it was Finduilas, and behind her stood Maeglin, one of his favorite cousins.

“Well…”

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______

Curufin was not pouting.

He was definitely not pouting.

He stared out the carriage window, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. With a grunt, he pushed Celegorm who had been sleeping on his shoulder, drooling toward Caranthir, who looked thoroughly disgusted.

He looked back outside at the passing trees, then glanced forward. Maedhros was engrossed in a book, Maglor plucked gently at his harp, and the twins were seated with their parents in the other carriage. Curufin sighed again, boredom settling over him like a heavy cloak.

He was supposed to be in his forge right now, working alongside his Atar, yet here he was, stuck in a carriage with four of his siblings, traveling to Valimar, an idea that filled him with quiet, simmering disgust.

Curufin had never liked visiting Valimar. He would invent excuses whenever his cousins invited him to the city.

The place was too bright, too perfect..so flawless it felt fake. And don’t even get him started on the Valar.

He didn’t just dislike the Valar—he hated most of them. Ulmo and Oromë were exceptions, but the rest gave him an ominous feeling he could never shake, a sense of unease that gnawed at him.

Now, as the royal family of the Noldor had been summoned to Valinor for the once-a-decade meeting, Curufin noticed his Haru growing increasingly uncomfortable, especially as Manwë began offering his suggestions.

Now they were traveling by carriage, something Curufin disliked, as it restricted his movements. He preferred riding horses, a preference shared by Celegorm and Aredhel, but they had been persuaded by Haru that they needed to be respectful—they were on their way to meet the Valar, which meant behaving like royalty for the entire ride.

Curufin hated it. For Eru’s sake, he had no royalty in his bones. He would much rather spend his time forging than attending balls or dinners, forced to be polite—a notion he found utterly disgusting.

Seven days passed before they finally arrived at Valimar, much to Curufin’s relief. His backside ached from sitting so long, and his legs were numb from the cramped position.

As they passed through the city, the dazzling gold of the buildings nearly blinded him. He even swore he saw a temple made entirely of gold, leaving him speechless at the extent of worship the Vanyar practiced—a thought that made him shiver.

The carriage eventually arrived at the massive palace, which Curufin had to admit was both beautiful and holy-looking. One thing, however, drew his ire: it was perched atop a mountain. Groans rose from his siblings at the sight.

“Goddammit,” Celegorm cursed, eyeing the steep stairs without railings. One wrong step and you were gone.

Curufin felt a headache coming on as the other carriages arrived, eliciting similar reactions from their occupants. They disembarked and began the climb.

By the time they reached the palace, Curufin was leaning heavily on Aegnor, his legs trembling, while Aegnor himself was breathing laboriously. Their siblings and cousins were similarly exhausted, even Uncle Fingolfin gasping for air. Haru Finwë simply shook his head.

Any one of them would have collapsed to the ground if not for the fact that they stood before the home of the Valar. It was already a miracle that his Atar had not yet started complaining or insulting anyone—probably because Haru was present.

A voice spoke, drawing the attention of the Finwëans. They saw a male with curly hair and, shockingly, emerald eyes—a shade of green unlike anything Curufin had ever seen. It intrigued him, though he quickly shook it off; after all, it was a Maia, and he hated anything related to the Valar.

'Probably another arrogant, snobbish Maia,' Curufin thought, watching silently.

“I’m so sorry about the long stairs, but let’s come inside so you can rest in your designated quarters,”

The Maia said, smiling gently as he bowed. He began to lead the way, and Curufin and the others followed him into the palace.

If Curufin had thought the exterior was lavish, the interior was far worse blinding in its splendor. From the corner of his eye, he heard Caranthir mutter a curse about the Valar wasting gold, earning a sharp scolding from Maedhros.

Curufin sneaked a glance at the Maia leading them, who remained unaffected by the comment. The polite smile never wavered, prompting Curufin to snort disdainfully.

'He’s good at pretending, '

Curufin thought, narrowing his eyes as he observed the Maia, who continued to show them each designated quarter for the Finwëan family.

'I’ll keep an eye on you,' he vowed silently, knowing the days ahead would require vigilance.
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Days had passed since they had arrived, and all Curufin could say was that he hated and detested this place—a sentiment even his cousins admitted to.

There were so many rules to follow that even dining with the Valar felt like a death sentence. Seeing what his Atar endured, Curufin knew Elerion was close to combusting, though thankfully Haru Finwë always managed to coax him back from the edge. Nonetheless, Elerion remained grumpy, clearly detesting the place as much as Curufin did.

One thing, however, particularly irked Curufin during their stay: the Maia who guided them, later revealed to be named Elerion.

The Maia assigned to lead the Noldor royal family was cheerful, polite, and infuriatingly calm. Even when Curufin’s Atar made sharp side remarks, Elerion did not react like a patient observer watching misbehaving children instantly earning Curufin’s dislike.

There was something unsettling about the way the Maia smiled at everyone, as if he understood them perfectly or knew something they did not.

Curufin despised that quiet superiority, not only because Elerion served the Valar, but because he seemed amused by Curufin’s hostility rather than offended by it.

Whenever Curufin snapped at him, Elerion would simply tilt his head and smile, as if studying an interesting problem, the infuriating amusement in his expression only fueling Curufin’s anger further.

Curufin felt like he was being analyzed. He did not like it.

“You’re probably just paranoid, Curvo,”

Celegorm said, munching on an apple. They were in Yavanna’s garden, relaxing with Huan, while the twins played tag with Argon. Fingon and Maedhros lingered off to the side, and the rest of the family wandered about.

“I’m not paranoid,” Curufin grumbled. Celegorm raised an eyebrow and took another bite of his apple, while Curufin just rolled his eyes.

“What are you two talking about?”

A voice asked from behind. Curufin turned and saw Aredhel, wearing a white dress with her hair up in a high ponytail.

“Irisse! Where have you been?”

Celegorm exclaimed. Aredhel smiled widely and walked over, sitting beside Celegorm and giving him a light, playful punch on the shoulder, causing him to bark a laugh.

“Oh, just Curvo here with Maia problems,”

Celegorm said, prompting Aredhel to raise an eyebrow. She glanced at Celegorm, then at Curufin, who huffed in annoyance. Aredhel’s expression shifted to realization, and she snapped her fingers.

“Is this about that gorgeous Maia of Namo?” Aredhel asked. Both Curufin and Celegorm looked at her, confused.

“You mean Elerion?” Aredhel added. Both finally understood who she meant.

“Maia of Namo??” Celegorm asked, questioning. Aredhel nodded. Curufin wrinkled his eyes and snorted.

“Just great,”

Curufin muttered under his breath. Celegorm barked a laugh, leaving Aredhel more confused until she was ticked off and demanded to know what was going on. Celegorm explained everything to her.

“Bwhahahaha…” Aredhel laughed, followed by Celegorm. Curufin felt his face heat with embarrassment and shame.

“Damn… Curvo, hahaha,”

Aredhel teased, laughing as she playfully hit Celegorm’s arm. Curufin’s lips twitched with annoyance, and his patience began to snap. He decided to leave before throttling them. As he walked away, he could still hear their laughter, causing him to pick up his pace, his ears burning with irritation.

He was still muttering curses under his breath as he walked down the hall when he suddenly stopped. Someone had called his name. Thinking it was one of his cousins, he turned but his face darkened as he realized who it actually was.

“Elerion,”

Curufin said, his tone laced with hostility as he shot a sharp glance at the Maia, who simply smiled despite the obvious animosity directed at him.

“Prince Atarince,”

Elerion greeted politely. Curufin huffed and continued walking, but Elerion quickly fell in step beside him. Curufin shot side-eye glances, clearly annoyed.

“What do you want?” Curufin asked sharply, staring straight ahead.

“It seems you need a friend, Prince Atarince,” Elerion said cheekily, earning an even sharper glare from Curufin, whose fingers twitched with irritation.

“Do I look like I need a friend?” Curufin snapped. Elerion responded with that infuriatingly polite smile Curufin wished he could wipe from his face.

“Of course not, Prince Atarince,”

Elerion chirped, making Curufin frown. He muttered under his breath, and Elerion laughed, causing Curufin to clench his fists, hanging by a thread to resist punching the Maia.

'How annoying,'

Curufin thought angrily, quickening his pace. He could hear Elerion chuckling behind him until the Maia stopped, watching Curufin’s retreating figure disappear from view.

“How nostalgic…” Elerion muttered, staring in the direction Curufin had gone. A gust of wind blew past, making his hair flutter.

“Elerion…” A voice called out, and he tilted his head. Another Maia appeared—pale blonde hair and stormy gray eyes.

“Olorin,”
________

" Well that was a rough start "

Finduilas commented as Celebrimbor and the rest of his cousins was now on his private chambers in the castle as pillows and blankets was scattered

Maeglin who was clutching a pillow and Gil Galad nodded who was besides Celebrimbor while Elrond was sitting down nearby chair as Blankets was dropped over him however his eyebrows could be seen wrinkled as if he was in deep thought.

" So what happened next? "

Finduilas then added clearly hooked by the story that was being told as Celebrimbor was about to continue when suddenly a knock interrupted them making them look towards the door.

" Are you expecting someone? " Gil Galad ask however Celebrimbor just shook his head and then gave a shrug.

Celebrimbor cleared his throat as he then said " The door is open " as the rest had straighten up.

However upon opening the door they expected servants however it only revealed their Haru Finwe who was coming in with Haruni Indis.

" Haru! Haruni!"

" Grandfather! "

Shouts of surprise could be heard echoing as Finwe and Indis gave them a smile as they went in.

" Why is my great grandchildren all gathered here? " Finwe asked as he sat down on the bed who was beside Maeglin who moved slightly away as Indis then sat beside Elrond whom greeted her.

" Oh, I'm just telling them how Atto and Atar met, Haru " Celebrimbor explained as Finwe seemed to pause for a moment as a understanding came inside him.

" I know this story! " Finwe cheerfully said as Indis chuckled.

" So which part are you in the story, Tyelpe? " Finwe asked as Celebrimbor then answered making the older elf chuckle more.

" Ahh, so it was that part " Finwe said as Celebrimbor nodded.

" Shall I continue? "

Celebrimbor said as he received nods of agreements not before Finwe suddenly reached out to Maeglin who was clearly away and drag him to his side which surprise the latter at the action but clearly not unwelcome which brings Celebrimbor smile at the sight.

" So where was I? Oh right as I was saying...."
__________

After that encounter, it was as if a game of cat and mouse was happening between Curufin, the fifth son of Prince Feanor and the Maia of Namo, Elerion.

As wherever Curufin goes everybody should expect that Elerion will be there like a little shadow earning teasing from his siblings and cousins. Even if Curufin always say sharp and jabbing words towards Elerion who just smile as if he didn't hear it. As he never left his side.

However It was truly a sight in the place as even Namo was amused. To see a prince avoiding his " Maia " and often bicker like cat and dog it was truly an amusing sight.

" Now now, Curvo. I'm sure Elerion just wanted to be your friend "

Maglor said one day as they were strolling in the City's festive market as they were sneaking out as staying with Valar with Maia feels stuffy.

" Friend my foot " Curufin angrily muttered as an arm was wrap around his neck and saw that it was from Celegorm.

" Such harsh words, my brother "

Celegorm dramtically said paired with putting his hand on his chest to make it believable earning snickers from the rest of the siblings making Curufin more and more annoyed as they continue jabbing him until he couldn't take it anymore as he them left the alone still grumbling with complaints making the rest laugh who was left behind.

However when Curufin had returned back to his senses he discovered he was lost as he didn't know where he was are where he had came from at all. He took a deep breath and calm himself down.

" Great now I'm lost "

Curufin cursed as he decided to walk around hoping to find someone familiar but as time pass it seems he got more and more lost as the area is getting and getting more deserted until he was in a random garden with a big fountains with a gold statue of two swans that seems flying on it.

" I hate this place "

He muttered as he sat at the edge of the fountain as he put both his hands on his face as rub on it. He felt he was on the vergie of tears due to frustration as this day was bad. Curufin was that in position for period of time.
He could birds the chirping, sounds of crowds and of the people passing by. The sounds of running water from the fountain and footsteps that was getting louder and louder.

' Wait a minute '

Curufin thought as he then opened his eyes as he could see boots coming closer to him ans stop infront of him but not far away as he then raised his head and saw the last person he ever wanted to meet.

" It's seems you got lost, Prince Atarince "

Elerion said as he smile at Curufin who just watched. As Elerion was wearing white and green robes with his hair in high pony tail.

" Why are you here?"

Curufin demanded after snapping out as he gaze Elerion with his sharp criticizing eyes as Elerion eyes flash with helplessness as it disappeared in flash.

" Can I not be here? "

Elerion joked though a hint of hurt could be heard yet Curufin didn't notice it as the latter just huff in disdain as he cross his arms as he look at Elerion whom then sat beside Curufin but not too close yet not to far just like always..

As time pass by them as Elerion then suddenly took a deep breathe and sigh as he then stand up as it catches Curufin attention who just rolled his eyes at the thought of dramatic action like how Maia always do.

" Apologies, But it seems my presence is unwanted and I should leave " Elerion said as he look forward.

" Good at least you know your presence is not needed "

Curufin remarked as he lift his chin up arrogantly. As Elerion then take a deep breathe as he said his goodbye as he left until Curufin watched his fleeting figure walking away as he felt smug inside that he can finally get rid of the pest of a Maia who seems can't stop following like a shadow.

Curufin who still pleased himself as a problem then arrive as he then thought of his siblings who was probably now looking for him frantically.

" Now... how should I inform them that I'm here "

Curufin muttered as he still looking at the shining bright sky as he felt the badmood earlier was gone replaced with a good mood.

______

" Eru Illuvatar... He actually said that..."

Elrond muttered hearing the continuation of the story as despite that the event had already took place a long time ago he could still not help be surprise.

He could even see Indis nodded at his words while Gil Galad was dumbfounded and even Finduilas, forgot her etiquette clearly jaw dropped at the story that he just heard.

" Yes, Atar was an asshole back then " Celebrimbor admitted as he Finwe then lightly scolded him for using such curse words as the former apologize to its grandfather.

" So what happened next? "

Finduilas asked as she adjust her posture as she noticed that Maeglin had fallen asleep with his head on their grandfather lap as Finwe gently combed his hands to its black jet hair.

" After that day......"

_______

Days had passed as Curufin life had settle into a strange new rhythm as his life was now at peace without the constant annoyment in his life and he was happy for it.

His family noticed it while some gave him a teasing congratulations smile though his Amme had scolded him for being to harsh and rude to the Maia yet he didn't care now that he finally had achieve his peace.

Yet he then started notice how quiet his life had been despite the chaos of a family he had. He subconciously look behind making him scold himself. He always on alert ad he didn't know when Elerion will pop out yet he never appeared infront of him again after that day. It was always another Maia who was now attending their needs who was a Maia of Manwe.

He was just like Elerion a bit but more mischievous and who's name was Olorin yet sometime he couldn't help but subconciously look for Elerion which creep himself out at the thought.

“You looking for someone, Curvo?”

The voice was familiar..far more commanding than expected.

Curufin looked up, only for his expression to shift slightly in surprise as he saw who stood before him.

“…Atar.”

Fëanor stood a short distance away, arms crossed, posture straight and unyielding. His gaze was sharp, keen in a way that felt less like casual observation and more like dissection, as if he were already piecing together something Curufin had yet to admit even to himself.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Nelyo?” Curufin asked, raising a brow.

“It is rare to see you apart when there is something of interest to discuss.”

Fëanor gave a faint scoff.

“Your brother is occupied with matters that require patience,” He said, tone edged with mild disdain.

“Something I have little interest in entertaining at the moment.”

Curufin nodded slightly at that, though his attention remained cautious as he knew what is was that irritated his Atar but rather who it was and when Fëanor appeared like this unannounced and observant it rarely meant anything simple.

“So,” Fëanor continued, gaze narrowing just slightly, “I have heard.”

Curufin’s expression darkened faintly.
“They are being dramatic.”

Fëanor did not respond immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, slow and deliberate, before coming to a stop beside him. His presence alone felt heavy, suffocating in its intensity, yet controlled—always controlled.

“…Are they?”

Curufin clicked his tongue, irritation flickering. “Do not start.”

“I am not ‘starting’ anything,” Fëanor replied, voice calm but carrying that unmistakable sharpness beneath it.

“I am observing.”

That only made Curufin more annoyed. He turned toward him, brows furrowing.

“Observing what?”

Fëanor finally looked at him fully then—not with amusement, nor mockery, but with a piercing focus that made it feel as though he were being studied, stripped down to something far more transparent than Curufin preferred.

“You have been quieter.”

Curufin stiffened immediately. “I am not—”

“You are,” Fëanor cut in, firm and absolute.

“You have not complained once in the past hour.”

Curufin opened his mouth to argue—then paused because that, annoyingly, was true.

“…Good riddance,”

He muttered instead, turning away he could feel heat crep up in his face as he could feel his Atar’s gaze lingered on him, unmoved as silence stretched between them not idle, not empty, but heavy with something unspoken. Then, without shifting his tone, Fëanor added—

“You keep looking for him.”

Curufin’s head snapped back toward him. “I do not.”

“You do,” Fëanor said plainly, as though stating an undeniable fact.

“Every corridor. Every gathering. Even now.”

Curufin’s jaw tightened as he look away from his Atar.

“It proves nothing.”

“Everything means something,” Fëanor countered sharply, his gaze narrowing slightly.

“You simply refuse to examine it.”

Curufin frowned, irritation faltering for just a moment. “He was a constant irritation.”

“Yes.”

“He was insufferable.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“He had an unfortunate habit of appearing wherever I was.”

Fëanor tilted his head slightly, considering that. “And yet,” he said, voice lowering just a fraction, “you noticed when he stopped.”

Curufin stilled as those words that… struck deeper than it should have that he didn't know as Fëanor watched him closely, expression unreadable but intent.

“You got what you wanted,” he continued.

“He left.”

The silence that followed was heavier now, pressing in with quiet insistence.

“…So why,” Fëanor added, more quietly than before, “do you look dissatisfied?”

Curufin frowned. “I do not.”

Fëanor did not argue. He simply studied him for a moment longer before giving a faint, almost knowing scoff.

“You remind me of a craftsman who discards a tool,” He said as he look at his foolish son and he then added.

“Only to realize—too late—that it was useful.”

Curufin’s brows furrowed. “He is not—”

“No,” Fëanor interrupted smoothly.

“He is not.” Feanor paused and then, sharper.

“Which makes it worse.”

Curufin’s chest tightened faintly at that, though he refused to acknowledge it.

“I have no reason to.”

He said firmly as Fëanor held his gaze for a long moment as if thinking something as he look deeply at his son before he gave a knowing smile.

“Then prove it.”

Curufin blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Fëanor straightened, already turning away, his cloak shifting with the movement.

“If you truly do not care,” he said without looking back, “then his absence should not occupy your thoughts.”

He took a few steps forward before pausing briefly.

“…And yet, here you are.”

With that, he continued walking, leaving Curufin standing where he was. As he just remained where he was, unmoving.

The words lingered in his mind longer than he cared to admit, echoing with an uncomfortable weight. If you never see him again. He clicked his tongue sharply, shaking his head as if to dismiss the thought.

“Ridiculous,”

He muttered under his breath, yet his feet had already begun moving in another direction.In a direction he had not consciously chosen.

The library was quiet, as it always was. Rows upon rows of books stretched endlessly, the air filled with the faint scent of parchment and ink. Curufin paused at the entrance, hesitating for a brief moment before stepping inside. He told himself this was pointless, that he had no reason to be here, yet he continued forward anyway.

It did not take long to find him.

Elerion sat tucked away near a tall window, bathed in soft light as he read a book in silence. There was no bright smile, no teasing expression—only a calm, distant focus that made him seem… quieter than before. Alone.

Curufin slowed, then stopped.

For a moment, he considered leaving.

Instead, he stepped closer.

The faint sound of his footsteps must have been enough, because Elerion paused, though he did not immediately look up. “…Prince Atarince,” he said softly.

Curufin frowned. “You knew I was here?”

Elerion lifted his gaze then, meeting his eyes with a calm, unreadable expression. “I usually do.”

There was no smile.

Curufin found that more unsettling than anything. It felt odd.

“I didn’t come for assistance,”

He said after a brief pause, his tone more as it sounded harsh than intended as the air between goes tense As Elerion began to close his book and rise, as if to leave, Curufin spoke again, more sharply as he knew he had to correct his mistakes before the Maia leave.

“No—wait.”

Elerion stilled as he turned around and look confused at Curufin as the lattwr then inhaled, the words suddenly difficult to form.

“What I said before…” He trailed off, irritation flickering across his expression before he forced himself to continue.

“…I may have been… unnecessarily severe..”

The admission felt foreign as the air had froze at the confession however to Curufin it was uncomfortable. As he was always never wrong and never the one who apologized as it was always the other way around.

“I meant it at the time,” he added quickly, as if to correct himself, “but it was… excessive.” His jaw tightened slightly.

" You were fulfilling what was asked of you,” He continued, more curtly now. “…and I misjudged the situation.”

His gaze flickered away briefly before returning.

“…You did not warrant the extent of it.”

Elerion blinked slowly, clearly not expecting that. For a moment, he simply watched Curufin in silence before his expression softened just slightly.

“Thank you,” he said gently.

“I accept your apology.”

Curufin clicked his tongue softly, as if dissatisfied with how the exchange had unfolded.

“Do not mistake this for fondness,” he added, tone returning to something more familiar.

“…I simply prefer my judgments to be accurate.”

A small pause followed before Elerion added, with the faintest trace of warmth returning to his tone, “Though you are still quite harsh.”

Curufin scoffed.“That has not improved, I see.”

This time, Elerion smiled—small and genuine.

Something in Curufin’s chest eased, though he refused to acknowledge it.

“…Are you leaving?” Elerion asked after a moment as curufin hesitated, then shook his head slightly.

“…No.” He moved to sit nearby, not quite looking at him as.

“Continue your reading.”

Elerion seemed surprised for only a moment before he inclined his head slightly as he then say back to his seat not before giving Curufin an amused smile.

“As you wish, Prince Atarince.”

And so they sat in quiet companionship, the tension between them no longer sharp, but softened into something quieter—something unspoken. Not quite friendship, not yet, but no longer hostility either.

Time did not pass loudly, nor did it announce change in any grand manner, yet something within the rhythm of their stay in Valimar shifted all the same. It was not immediate...no, it was gradual, almost imperceptible at first, like the slow turning of gears that no one noticed until the movement became undeniable.

Conversations no longer held the same sharp edge when Curufin spoke to Elerion, and where there had once been biting remarks and thinly veiled hostility, there now lingered something quieter, something… restrained.

It did not go unnoticed.

Maedhros was the first to truly take note of it, though he did not comment right away. Instead, he observed in silence, as he often did, sharp eyes catching the subtle changes in behavior others might dismiss.

One afternoon, as they were gathered in one of the open courtyards, he watched as Elerion approached with his usual calm composure.

Curufin, who would have once bristled immediately, merely glanced at him before speaking..no bite, no sharpness, just a simple acknowledgment. It was… strange.

Maedhros closed his book slowly, gaze lingering on the two a moment longer than necessary. Curious.

Across from him, Fingon noticed.Of course he did as he always did.

“Don’t overthink it,”

Fingon said lightly, not even looking up from where he rested lazily against the steps, sunlight catching in his hair. There was a faint smile on his lips, the kind that suggested he knew far more than he was willing to say.

Maedhros hummed in response, though his gaze remained thoughtful.

“You seem unsurprised.”

Fingon only smiled wider, eyes flickering briefly toward Curufin and Elerion before closing again as if the matter no longer interested him.

“Should I be?”

That answer alone was enough to tell Maedhros everything he needed to know—or perhaps, everything Fingon wanted him to know.

Elsewhere, the change was far less subtle.

“Well, well… look at this,”

Celegorm drawled one afternoon, leaning heavily against Curufin’s shoulder with a grin that promised trouble. His gaze flickered between his brother and the Maia standing nearby.

“No shouting? No insults? Did I miss something, or did you finally lose your teeth, Curvo?”

Curufin shoved him off immediately, scowling. “I will throw you into the nearest fountain if you do not remove yourself.”

Celegorm only laughed, clearly unbothered.

“Ah, there it is. I was getting worried.”

Aredhel, who stood nearby, crossed her arms as she watched the interaction unfold, her lips curving into an amused smile.

“You’re being nicer,” she pointed out bluntly, tilting her head as she looked at Curufin.

“It’s unsettling.”

“I am not,” Curufin snapped, though the lack of real heat in his voice betrayed him.

Elerion, standing just a step away, said nothing, though the faint curve of his lips did not go unnoticed clearly amused at the exchange.

“That’s even worse,” Aredhel added with a laugh as Celegorm grin.

“You’re not even denying it properly.”

Curufin clicked his tongue in irritation, choosing to ignore them entirely as he turned his attention elsewhere, though the faint warmth creeping up the tips of his ears did not escape Celegorm’s sharp eyes.

It was, admittedly, a strange adjustment.

Even Olorin seemed amused by it.

“You are much calmer these days,”

The Maia remarked one evening, appearing beside Elerion with that ever-present, knowing gentleness. His gaze flickered briefly toward Curufin, who sat not too far away, absorbed in his work yet clearly aware of their presence.

Elerion followed the direction of his gaze, expression thoughtful. “…Perhaps.”

Olorin’s smile deepened, though he said nothing more.

—

For Curufin, however, the change was not something he dwelled on.

At least, that was what he told himself.

It had simply… happened. Conversations came easier, silences less suffocating. Elerion’s presence no longer grated against his nerves the way it once had, and in turn, Curufin found himself no longer compelled to push him away at every opportunity. It was not friendship..no, he would not go that far but it was no longer hostility either.

It was… something else.

Something tolerable.Something steady and perhaps that was why when Elerion did not appear one day. He had noticed it.
Curufin noticed. It was not immediately but eventually.

At first, he thought nothing of it. The Maia had duties, after all. It was only natural that he would be occupied elsewhere. Curufin carried on with his own tasks, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came.

Yet as the hours passed and then the next day then another the absence became… noticeable. It was not like one in the past where he was still annoyed by the Maia and it affect him annoyingly so.

Curufin frowned slightly as he walked through one of the quieter corridors, arms crossed as his thoughts turned unbidden toward the matter.

“He is likely busy,” he muttered to himself, more as a statement than a question.

“It is none of my concern.”

And yet as he walked down the Halls toward Aule's halls when suddenly his steps slowed and then stopped.

Voices echoed faintly from around the corner ahead, low, controlled, and unmistakably tense causing Curufin stilled as he had eecognized one of them immediately. It was from Elerion and the other..

Curufin’s expression darkened slightly.

Mairon. He was one of the Maia under Lord Aule. An arrogant one that he hated even his Atto often complained about him when he returned after doing apprenticeship under the Valar.

He moved without thinking, steps quiet as he approached just enough to see them and he then immediately noticed the air between the two was… cold.

Not loud. Not aggressive bt sharp in a way that cut deeper than raised voices ever could. And it was also for the first time he had saw Elerion having such cold expression.

“You continue to interfere,”

Mairon was saying, his tone smooth yet edged with something far less pleasant beneath the surface as he take another step forward as he sharply gaze toward Elerion as the latter never back down.

Elerion stood across from him, posture straight, expression calm but his eyes were colder than Curufin had ever seen them.

“And you continue to overstep.”

A faint smile curved at Mairon’s lips, though there was no warmth in it. “Careful.”

Elerion did not react as he just gave a smile that didn't reach his eyes as his eyes narrowed of warnings at the other Maia.

“I am not the one who should be careful,”

He replied quietly as both of them stare off.
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating in a way that made even Curufin’s chest tighten slightly as he didn't know what was between the Maia but by watching of it. He knew it was bad as he then stepped forward.

“That is enough.”

Both turned and loook at Curufin as Mairon’s gaze slid toward him first, sharp and assessing, while Elerion’s expression shifted just slightly in surprise.

Curufin met Mairon’s gaze without hesitation, his own eyes narrowing faintly with warning as he stepped forward to shield Elerion who's eyes flash with surprise at the action. As Mairon exchange his gaze as he look between Elerion and Curufin as the Maia smiled.

Slow. Knowing.

“Ah,” He said softly, his gaze flickering briefly toward Elerion before returning to Curufin.

“I see.”

However Curufin did not like that tone nor that look that the Maia gave at them amd for a moment, it seemed as though Mairon might say more but instead, he simply inclined his head slightly.

“As you wish, Prince Atarince.”

He politelty said and just like that, he turned and walked away, his presence fading down the corridor but not before He glanced back once more two of them mire especially at Elerion as he gave that same knowing smile lingering on his lips.

Silence followed his departure as they watched the Maia figure slowly dissappear at their sight causing Curufin exhaled sharply, tension easing slightly as he turned toward Elerion.

“Are you—”

He stopped because Elerion was looking at him. Not with surprise nor with confusion but with something quieter and more like something… unreadable.

“…You did not need to intervene,” Elerion said softly.

Curufin frowned. “He was speaking where he had no place to.”

Elerion’s gaze lingered on him a moment longer before something softened just slightly.

“…Perhaps.”

A pause then, quieter thanks came from Elerion.

Curufin looked away with a small scoff. “…Do not misunderstand. I have never found him tolerable.”

Elerion’s lips curved faintly at that and a bit amused as he could see the elfs ears redden as he then laugh.

“Of course.”

______

The story came to a pause, the quiet of the chamber settling naturally as Celebrimbor leaned back slightly, exhaling as if he had momentarily stepped out of the past and into the present once more after he finishes telling the story.

“…So you’re saying Uncle Naro actually stepped in?” Finduilas was the first to break the silence, her brows raised high in disbelief as she leaned forward, clearly invested.

“Willingly?”

“Yes. I know how it sounds.”

Celebrimbor as he huff as he knew what they were talking about as he was even didn't believe it when his Atar and Atto told him the story.

“It sounds impossible,” She corrected immediately as she nodded to himself as Indis and Finwe chuckled.

Gil-galad let out a quiet breath, shaking his head faintly. “No—she’s right,” he said.

“That is not something I ever expected to hear. Curufin is one thing, but Fëanor… stepping in to interfere like that?”

“That is putting it lightly,” Celebrimbor muttered under his breath as he shook his head.

Nearby, Maeglin shifted slightly where he rested against Finwë, still appearing half-asleep. Finwë himself only chuckled softly, continuing to comb gentle fingers through the younger elf’s dark hair as if the entire situation amused him more than anything else.

“Even Naro” He said, voice warm with quiet fondness, “is not beyond acting when something catches his interest.”

“That is a very generous way of putting it,”

Gil-galad murmured as he shook his head as Finwe just sigh helplessly as he knew how bad his Eldest son's reputation was after that Silmarillion fiasco. When suddenly a voice then cut in from the side—

“I would have done more than simply ‘step in.’”

The room stilled.

Slowly, several heads turned.

Fëanor stood near the doorway, arms crossed, posture straight and commanding even in stillness. His gaze swept across the room, sharp and keen, as though assessing each reaction with quiet intensity.

Celebrimbor blinked. “…Haru?”

“I arrived some time ago,” Fëanor replied, his tone calm but carrying that familiar edge of authority as he lifted his chin as he look at them.

“You were all too occupied to notice.”

“That is… concerning,” Finduilas admitted as they didn't even notice when Feanor had come or arrived as they didn't even realize it.

“Or expected,”

Finwë added with a quiet chuckle as Indis merely sighed softly, though there was fondness in it as she look at Feanor that the latter didn't even notice it.

“You have always had a way of appearing unannounced.”

Indis softly said remembering the past as Fëanor did not deny it. Instead, his gaze shifted toward Celebrimbor, narrowing slightly not in displeasure, but in sharp interest.

“You are recounting that moment.”

It was not a question as it was the truth as
Celebrimbor resisted the urge to sink into his seat as his Haru look at him with a knowing look.

“…Yes.”

Fëanor hummed softly, expression unreadable for a brief moment before something faint almost amused touched his lips.

“You have not exaggerated, at least.”

“That is reassuring,”

Celebrimbor said dryly as Elrond, who had been quiet until now, spoke up, his tone thoughtful that was bothering him.

“…Mairon,” He said as he pause slowly as Elrond face change into something unreadable as he then added, “That is… Sauron, is it not? His name before he fell?”

The room quieted slightly at that as the question landed in the room as Feanor eyes narrowed and frowned at the mention of the accused Maia as even Finwe wrinkled forehead.

Gil-galad nodded. “Yes.”

A subtle shift passed through the group, the earlier curiosity dimming just a fraction under the weight of that name. Several glances turned quietly, almost instinctively toward Celebrimbor.

Sympathetic...Knowing...Unspoken.

Celebrimbor noticed immediately as his lips twitched faintly, somewhere between irritation and resignation as they knew who what they were referring to. The Annatar Fiasco which of course if you think about it, it felt like an irony though it still stung inside him.

“You do not need to look at me like that,” Celebrimbor muttered.

“I am well aware.” He added as he then look.

Finduilas winced slightly. “We weren’t—”

“You were,” Celebrimbor cut in as silence then echoes in the room.

Elrond’s gaze softened, though he did not look away. Finwë’s hand paused briefly in Maeglin’s hair before continuing again, his expression thoughtful.

“The past is not easily escaped,”

He said gently as Celebrimbor just grumbled as he then felt a warm hand on his shoulders causing him to look and saw that it was Feanor who gave him a grounding hold as Celebrimbor gave him a smile.

A brief pause followed before Finduilas leaned forward again, curiosity quickly returning. “So what happened next?” she pressed.

“What did Mairon mean by that look? And what did your Atar do after?”

Celebrimbor opened his mouth to continue but a knock interrupted him causing all eyes turned toward the door.

“Again?” Gil-galad muttered, though there was faint amusement in his tone now.

Celebrimbor frowned slightly. “…No.”

Before he could say more, the door opened and the room fell silent. As there was Elerion stood at the threshold and for a brief moment, no one spoke, as if the air itself had stilled in quiet acknowledgment of his presence then..

Celebrimbor straightened almost immediately.

“Atar,”

He greeted as Elerion’s eyes softened as he nodded in acknowledgement as Elerion’s gaze swept across the room, taking in the gathered company with ease. One brow lifted ever so slightly, amusement flickering in his expression.

“Well...this quite an interesting gathering” He said lightly as he stepped inside causing the people let our nervous chuckles remembering what happened earlier.

Finwë chuckled from where he sat. “It seems your son has taken it upon himself to recount your history.”

Indis smiled warmly as she added “They have been quite invested.”

Elerion’s gaze flickered briefly toward Celebrimbor, something unreadable passing through his eyes before settling into quiet amusement.

“…I see,” He murmured.

Celebrimbor resisted the urge to groan but before anything more could be said, Indis suddnly clapped her hands softly, drawing attention.

“As much as I would love to hear the rest, it is quite late.”

A collective pause followed of slow agreement.

“Yes… we should continue tomorrow,” Gil-galad admitted.

Finduilas sighed but nodded. “Fine. But do not leave out anything.”

“I was not planning to,”

Celebrimbor as he mischievously said while Gil-galad roled his eyes while Elrond just sigh as One by one, they began to leave. Fëanor lingered only briefly, his gaze resting on Celebrimbor for a moment—sharp, thoughtful as he then look toward Elerion as he nodded toward the Maia before he turned and exited without another word.

Soon enough, the room emptied until only two remained as the silence settled naturally.

Celebrimbor exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. “…You heard that, didn’t you?”

Elerion’s lips curved faintly. “Enough.”

Celebrimbor groaned softly. “That is worse.”

Elerion said nothing, though the quiet amusement in his gaze remained as silence settled between them once more.

Neither of them spoke, and for the first time since the others had left, the absence of noise felt heavier rather than peaceful. Celebrimbor shifted slightly where he sat, suddenly aware of how strange this was—being alone with him like this, without an audience, without distraction.

' This is strange…' He thought, sneaking glances at his Atar, who seemed far too at ease in a place that had never truly been his.

It had been so long since Celebrimbor had seen him, longer still since they had simply… existed in the same space without distance between them. Most of his childhood, Elerion had been gone..always gone and then one day, he had simply disappeared entirely. No explanation. No farewell. Nothing.

The thought tightened something bitter in his chest.

He hated him.

He hated him for that as Celebrimbor didn't notice he was subcknconcioulsy projecting his feelings toward Elerion who just flinch upon receiving it.

“I’m sorry.”

The words broke through the silence so abruptly that Celebrimbor froze, his thoughts cutting off as he turned toward Elerion.

The Maia had not moved from where he stood near the fireplace, his gaze fixed on the quiet flames as if he could not quite bring himself to look anywhere else. Celebrimbor frowned, confusion flickering across his face.

“…What?”

Elerion did not answer immediately. His shoulders remained still, yet there was something in the way he held himself—something restrained, something almost… fragile that made Celebrimbor’s confusion twist into something sharper.

“For what?” He pressed, his voice tightening despite himself as Celebrimbor took a deep breathe calm this wanton mess of heart of his.

“For everything.”

That answer only made something inside Celebrimbor snap asbitter laugh escaped him, hollow and disbelieving as he gaze at his Atar as their eyes met.

“That’s it?” he demanded, rising from his seat as he could feel anger boiling down inside of him.

“You disappear for centuries, and all you have to say is ‘I’m sorry’?”

Elerion’s gaze lowered slightly, but he still did not turn as celebrimbor’s hands clenched at his sides as he could feel his nails dig at the palm of his hands.

“Do you even realize what that means?” he continued, his voice rising despite his attempt to control it.

“Do you know what it was like? Growing up with you barely there—always leaving, always gone—and then one day you just… vanish? No explanation, no word—nothing!”

His voice cracked, but he pushed forward anyway, the words spilling out faster now, sharper.

“Do you know what happened after that?” Celebrimbor demanded.

“Do you know what we went through? The unrest, the tension—everything building until it broke!” His breath came unevenly now, anger bleeding into something far more desperate.

“If you had stayed—if you had just stayed—would it have been different?”

Elerion flinched. It was subtle but Celebrimbor saw it but he didn't care

“Would the Kinslaying have happened?” he pressed, voice shaking now.

“Would Haru Finwë still be alive? Would everything have… fallen apart like it did?”

The questions came faster, more frantic, each one heavier than the last.

“Would Atar have—would I—” He stopped himself, breath hitching as the weight of everything threatened to overwhelm him.

“What if you were there?”

Celebrimbor whispered, voice breaking as he could feel his eyes sting and at the sight of him break Elerion heart as he wanted to reach out at his child.

“What if you didn’t leave us?”

Silence followed as only followed by Celebrimbor's panting as it was ot empty nor distant but heavy..so unbearably heavy and when suddenly before Celebrimbor could step back, before he could gather himself, arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a firm, unyielding embrace.

He froze.

For a moment, he did not react at all as his Atar, Elerion held him tightly, one hand pressing against the back of his head as if anchoring him there, as if afraid he might disappear the moment he let go.

“I’m sorry,” He murmured again, voice low and strained, repeating the words like they were all he had left.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

And with those words skmething in Celebrimbor shattered as the anger, the restraint, the bitterness he had held onto for so long it cracked all at once, collapsing under the weight of everything he had kept buried.

His hands clenched weakly against Elerion’s clothes before gripping tighter, as if he did not know whether to push him away or hold on. A broken sound escaped him, and then another, until the dam finally broke.

He cried it was not quiet cries that he once do but rather raw and unguarded, the kind of grief that had been waiting for far too long.

“You weren’t there,” he choked out, voice trembling as he clutched at him.

“You weren’t there when everything fell apart—when we needed you—when I needed you—”

Elerion said nothing to defend himself. He did not argue and did not explain but rather e only held him tighter, his hand trembling slightly where it rested against Celebrimbor’s head as he continued to murmur the same words over and over again.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

And this time Celebrimbor did not stop him as he cries in his Atar’s arms as for the first time after being reimbroidded, he finally let go as he poured out all the pain he had endured as his cries echoes haunting every corner of the rooms as Elerion’s whispers of comfort and Apologies follows as they lay on the room.

Celebrimbor did not remember when the tears had finally stopped. At some point between broken words and quiet apologies, exhaustion had taken hold, pulling him under until the weight of everything faded into restless sleep.

Now he lay curled against his Atar’s arms as his breathing slow and uneven, the remnants of grief still lingering in the faint crease of his brows even in slumber however Elerion had not moved.

He sat propped against the headboard, one arm still wrapped loosely around his son, the other gently carding through Celebrimbor’s hair in slow, absent motions.

The room was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the dying fire and the faint rhythm of breathing that filled the space between them.

He studied him.

Truly studied him.

Not as the child he remembered in fragments—small hands tugging at his sleeves, bright eyes filled with curiosity—but as he was now.

Grown.

Older.

Worn in ways that should not have been his to bear and that realization settled heavily in Elerion’s chest. He had missed it.

All of it.

The years, the moments, the quiet changes that came and went without him there to witness them. The boy he had left behind had become a grown adult, and Elerion had not been there to see it happen.

His hand stilled briefly in Celebrimbor’s hair.

A faint sting pricked at his eyes.

…He had not even been there to try.

The thought twisted something deep within him, sharp and merciless. He had sworn once..long ago, in another life, under a different sky that he would never be that kind of person. Never absent. Never gone when it mattered most and yet here he was.

The irony did not escape him.

Elerion exhaled slowly, turning his head slightly as he lifted his free hand to his face, brushing away the moisture before it could fall. It was a pointless gesture, perhaps, but an instinct all the same.

The door creaked softly.

Elerion stilled.

He did not need to turn to know who had entered.

Curufin stood at the threshold, silent, his gaze immediately drawn to the bed. His eyes softened just slightly as they landed on Celebrimbor, curled and resting between them, the tension that so often defined him easing in the quiet presence of sleep causing him to stop in his actions.

For a moment, neither spoke as when suddenly Elerion spoke as his fingers resumed their slow motion through Celebrimbor’s hair, though there was a faint tension in the movement now.

“…I should not have left.”

Curufin’s expression shifted, something complicated flickering behind his eyes.

“You had no choice.”

The words were simple but they carried weight as Elerion stilled and for a brief moment, something passed between the unspoken, but understood.

Curufin moved then, walking toward the bed without hesitation. He stopped at the opposite side, looking down at Celebrimbor for a moment longer before carefully sitting down, mindful not to disturb him. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, but Celebrimbor did not stir.

Slowly, Curufin lay beside them.

Not too close but not distant either as He then reached for the blanket, pulling it up to cover all three of them in a quiet, deliberate motion, as if sealing the moment in place. The space between them was filled with silence once more—but this time, it was not empty.

It was… still...It was awkward as Elerion looked at him, look at his husband whom the person he had fallen in love when he arrived at this unknown place as everything was just foreign to him.

“…I am sorry,”

He said again, the words softer now, worn with repetition yet no less sincere as Curufin was quiet for a long moment as the latter just sigh making Elerion flinched.

“It is done,” Curufin said as he look at the ceiling of the room as after a while, his voice low, steady.

“What is done will not be undone.”

Elerion closed his eyes briefly as those words hit him. He knew that and He had known it long before any of this and still It hurt.

“…I swore once,” Elerion murmured faintly, almost to himself, “that I would never be absent.”

Curufin did not respond immediately as he look at Elerion as his hand moved hesitant at first, then certain as it reached across the space between them, fingers brushing against Elerion’s before gently taking hold. The contact was warm, grounding in a way that words could not be.

Elerion opened his eyes as he saw Curufin was already looking at him. There was no judgment there for him leaving them or for being absent. No anger rather it was oly something quiet, something steady and something that had endured despite everything.

“…You are here now.” Curufin said simply.

The words should have been comforting as perhaps they werebut they did not erase the ache.

Elerion felt it rise again, sharp and overwhelming, and this time he did not manage to hold it back entirely. He turned his head slightly, attempting to hide it as his free hand lifted once more, but the effort was… insufficient.

Curufin noticed.

Of course he did.

His grip tightened just slightly before he shifted closer, closing the space between them as he gently pulled Elerion nearer. Celebrimbor remained between them, undisturbed, his breathing steady as if untouched by the quiet storm surrounding him.

Elerion did not resist.

He could not.

The tears came quietly this time, restrained but no less heavy, slipping past despite his efforts to contain them. He exhaled shakily, the sound barely audible in the stillness of the room.

Curufin said nothing as he did not need to as he just simply held on as if that alone was enough.

The fire dimmed further, the room growing darker as the night stretched on. No more words were spoken, none needed between them as silence settled once more—no longer suffocating, but something softer.

Something shared.

And as the hours passed quietly into dawn, the three remained as the stars shine so bright as everything finally was in place.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Elerion… or rather, Harry Potter, as he had once been called in his past life, never imagined that after his death he would be reborn in such a strange world—as a Maia, under the care of Namo, appointed by Eru himself but Eru's only Maia.

It was meant to be a reward for all he had endured in his previous life, a kind of respite—a chance to heal after the turmoil of death. Though he was weary, he had accepted it graciously.

His new existence was… acceptable. Peaceful, even. Yet he never expected that the arrival of the royal family of the Noldor would change everything. He certainly did not anticipate falling in love at first sight with such a grumpy elf.

“Oh… boy…” he murmured, caught entirely off guard by the intensity of his own heart.