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Entry tags:

celebrimbor,
elrond

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Who: Celebrimbor & Elrond!
What: Elrond has a lot to tell Cel and it's high time he hears what becomes of his rings/Elrond/Arda in general.
Where: Elrond and Sansa's home.
When: Right now!
Warnings: There will probably be some darker topics discussed (war/death and so forth) but that's it.

Few are those Celebrimbor considers true friends. He has the annoying habit of being hard to touch emotionally - he guards his heart like a rare jewel after Annatar - but, once his affection is earned, it is, quite literally, never-ending. Elrond resides in the caverns physically - and Celebrimbor is glad of it - but he also resides in his heart where no ill can touch him.

If only he could make what he desires a reality...

At least he can come close - or he endeavors to, at least. Arriving at the front door to the abode Elrond shares with Sansa, he shifts a rather long box and knocks.

"Elrond? It's me!" he smiles in happy anticipation, silver eyes aglow.

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He's been expecting a visit, and has tea just about ready for them when he hears the knock and loved voice call out. Elrond immediately opens it, smiling widely and doesn't hesitate to reach out to pull Celebrimbor into an embrace- though he pulls back with a curious look to the box.

"Come in and be welcome!" Family is always welcome wherever he lives. So many whom he's missed fiercely but has had to put them out of immediate mind for a painfully long period of time, but now can (and does!) visit and speak with.

He can smell that tea: Elrond does know how to brew it well! Chuckling, he returns the embrace enthusiastically, his heart feeling so delightfully light that he fears it will float out of his chest. The curious look, however, is met with a playful grin. His dear friend will have to wait to see what he has brought him.

"You don't mind my company?" he queries teasingly, stepping into the house and setting the box down. He is walking without his cane and he is obviously enjoying being unencumbered by pain. Oh there is some - there will always be some - but Elrond's treatments are giving him his mobility back.

HE IS PATIENT

HE CAN WAIT

Elrond grins back but doesn't ask, only tugging Celebrimbor inside and closing the door after them. "Oh yes, terribly," he teases right back. He's rather proud of how much easier the other elf walks now. He guides the way to the comfortable living room where the tea waits.

CAN HE?

"That's a shame." he tuts, grinning with some of his old, playful spark. He shifts the box into the living room before a chair. He sits and opens the parcel at last, revealing that it is made of wood and nicely hinged. Inside, there is a bundle of cloth encasing a pair of gauntlets and a plain, but expertly forged sword.

WATCH HIM

A breath of a laugh and he sits beside his dear friend. Admiration colors his expression as he watches the parcel open so cleverly- just like something he'd expect from such a master craftsman. "You have been busy," he observes, fond.

"Hold out your arms." Celebrimbor lifts a gauntlet, smiling softly, "I do not consider it work when it is for one of my family."

The armor will sit snugly, but comfortably, and it is light once latched into place.

"It's not Mithril. I would have used that for you, but I haven't found anything even close in the caverns."

He obediently holds his arms out, smile soft and humbled. "It makes a difference," he agrees. Healing is the same for him, coming naturally and easily when he has a relative needing his skills.

"It may not be Mithril, but the skill placed into the work is no less diligent." He reaches for the sword, wishing to test the balance and admire it properly- simple didn't mean ugly. Celebrimbor had made it for him.

Celebrimbor shows Elrond how the gauntlets are meant to be latched and he nods his approval once they are in place. They look good and, more importantly, they will protect him. Shields are heavy and hard to wield in tight spaces, but a good pair of gauntlets can deflect blows with ease - and these will. As with everything he makes, he has put his will into them; they know Elrond and his importance.

"Would you give me a shoddily made medicament?" he sits back, smiling to encourage Elrond's curiosity. The sword is not ornamented - though it does have runes of protection etched into the hilt - but it is beautiful in its simplicity; obviously made with love. The blade sings, eager to serve Elrond.

He knows gauntlets, but these are particularly special and he already trusts them to help defend him when he needs them to. He's rarely used a shield, only when he'd been part of an army. Here? Gauntlets are better.

"Never," he answers firmly and without doubt or hesitation. He examines the sword, feeling how it answers his touch, and rests gentle fingertips on the blade in silent response.

"I thank you for these magnificent gifts, my friend," he says, gently returning the sword to it's sheath.

"Then you understand." he closes his eyes momentarily, hearing the sword's song reverberating through the air. Unlike his uncle, he cannot hear the song of everyone and all things. But he has inherited the ability - from his father and Fëanor most likely - to bring out harmonious tones from his creations. The sword in Elrond's hands reflects its master and he trusts it will reveal its true brilliance at his friend's side.

"No, these are more to put my nerves at ease. I know if you are equipped by me, the tools will not fail you." Celebrimbor is not boasting; forging is his passion - it's what he knows best - and he holds himself and what he makes to very high, strict standards.

"I would fit you with a suit of armor, but you would not wear it." he grins, "Reckless!"

It's a beautiful song, Elrond can hear it too. He'll cherish this blade, and all the other gifts his family and friends give him. "You know I do," he answers gently, not chiding.

"What I arrived with have served me well for many long years, but these are precious and will do me well." ...Mirth lights his eyes then and the grin is just a little more obvious than usual at the tease.

"It does run in the family."

Celebrimbor leans in and touches their heads together. Elrond is remarkable - an Elf who is the best of three families! Of course he understands and Celebrimbor is proud of him for his attention to detail.

"Does it need any repairs? I've seen to Findékano's helm already." he snickers and relaxes back, expression gentle, "In all of your families, actually. Your birth father is part of the Heavens - I would hardly call that playing it safe; your birth mother was willing to do what she felt was right at any cost and then you have us." the Fëanorians, "You are doomed to recklessness, my friend."

He leans into the touch and reaches out to curl an arm around his beloved friend. "Just the usual wear and tear of some battle seen." He's been fortunate to stick mostly to the side-lines to help the wounded more than actual battle.

"I would be grateful if you would see to what repairs are needed." And improve on it, HE KNOWS YOU CEL.

"Oh? I still stand against the Enemy and Shadow. I could say I am simply fortunate."

He is content to rest so close to one he treasures. There are not enough quiet moments in either of their lives, he is sure. But that leads him to wondering about Elrond's experiences.

"I would be happy to." his eyes sparkle at the prospect. Finding new ways to improve what has already been built is one of his favorite tasks. Oh he loves creating from scratch too, but it takes planning and wit to strengthen what has been done.

"...Sauron." he grits his teeth, "He lives? Is there no end to him?"

Such quiet moments are precious, and he's not about to push Celebrimbor away. He's missed his friend far too much.

"Then I will gladly turn my armor over to you later." For now though...Elrond tightens his gentle hold on the other elf, offering what comfort a kind touch can give.

"It is well, my friend...I saw Sauron's fall. I have seen much, since we last met on Arda, both on our world, and off it." He pulls back to press a kiss to the other elf's forehead. "I would tell you all of it, if you wish."

His spirit is at rest. He is open to listening to whatever Elrond has to say. Celebrimbor grins at the automatic trust his friend gives him, but he cannot hold onto anything positive when Sauron is mentioned. That...beast...had scarred him in nearly every way possible and no one knows the full extent of it except him.

"You... You did? How was it done?" he speaks eagerly, desperately, but he finds his calm again at the kiss, "I'm listening. I do want to know all of it." unless...

"Elrond, does it hurt you to speak of it?"

Celebrimbor remains a dear friend. What happened with the rings is important, but Elrond saw what Sauron had done to his friend. And he's kept an eye on him here, seen the beautiful soul still there, and he sees no reason not to trust him.

Rather than answer whether it hurts to speak of or not, he leans his forehead against his friend's again and launches into a brief tale.

"A band of nine companions," his lips twitch in fond humor. "Four hobbits, an elf, a dwarf, two men, and a wizard. Two of the halflings carried Sauron's one ring to Mount Doom while the rest, along with several armies of men and elves, served as distraction to keep Shadow at bay."

Celebrimbor had been a nearly broken, half-wild (thanks to pain) thing when he arrived. But once his wounds were tended to and he reconnected with his family, his old self was revealed. Sauron hasn't conquered any part of him aside from the physical. There is comfort in knowing that.

The soft pressure against his head is a sweet reminder of why he wants to live; of why he wants to protect the future. Elrond is in it.

"...amazing." he breathes, eyes unfocused as he tries to imagine it, "The races came together. With unity, we are stronger than him."

He's come a long way then! Elrond's glad for the enormous progress Celebrimbor's made.

"It was the last battle the Eldar fought for Middle-Earth. I am grateful it ended as it did."

He pulls away then, though only to pour two cups of the tea and offers one to the other elf. "I sailed once I saw my daughter wed to Aragorn, a fine descendant of Elros' who has proven himself as a leader and in battle. He will lead well, and she will help." He's proud of them both, even if he's also sad.

If Elrond had been in Hadriel back then, he would have made progress all the quicker! But there is a reason his father now wears a ring of his making. Celebrimbor promised himself he would never make another ring, but upon finding his father's sanity and love again, he had been...inspired.

"I wish I could see it." he blinks and smiles, curling his fingers around the tea cup, "He must be special for you to agree to letting your daughter wed him." he doesn't conceal his surprise.

Family is as dear to Elrond as it is to him. They do not part from it eagerly if at all!

"Does this mean she...will be mortal?" his expression is pained for his friend's sake, "Elrond..."

He tried to envision his little Faina making such a choice and oh...it hurts.

It was true! Elrond's grown rather fond of seeing just how much better all of them seem, despite the danger of the city.

"I would share my memories with you if I could," he answers easily. He trusts Celebrimbor enough to even think of it. He inclines his head in agreement.

"Elissar is dear to me. I fostered him from a young age." He doesn't deny his daughter's choice, either. "She has followed in Luthien's footsteps. She did not want to live without the other part of her heart." Even though it broke his to loose her.

"No, your words are enough for me." he can see the light of truth in his friend's eyes. There is no lie - kindly meant or otherwise.

"Thank you for telling me. You know I would have been at your side." or not far away. Arwen and Faina could have perhaps been friends.

"You would foster your nephews and nieces." and not solely for the memory of Elros, but also because children need and deserve a stable, dependable family. Sometimes Men die too young or are inept at the job.

"She is one of your bright rays. I trust that she will be Reborn, too, though perhaps differently. Unlike Lúthien, she will be an Elf and appear in Valinor to comfort and spend her days with her father."

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