The Tenth Ring by eris_of_imladris

Chapter 1

Read Chapter 1

The hammer fell on the burning metal, striking it with a sharp clang. “I think this one is finished,” he said, holding up the tongs with the ring inside. It still glowed with energy, practically humming with a heartbeat of its own as he placed it to cool nearby.

“That makes eight,” a voice answered. “Peerless work, once again. You truly are the grandson of Fëanáro.”

“It may not be wise to speak like that outside of here,” replied Celebrimbor.

“Perhaps not, but in here, no harm can come from being associated with him. He was the greatest of his time, and now you are the greatest of ours.”

“Annatar,” Celebrimbor chided lightly, a playful smile on his face.

“It is true, my friend, is it not? Who can match you among the Eldar? Even the Gwaith-i-Mirdain would not be half of what they are without you.”

“And yet, we must value their contributions,” Celebrimbor said as he picked up the tongs again, examining the surface of the ring for any flaws. “It is only by working together that we can each grow in skill, no matter where we begin.”

Annatar nodded, silent for once as he looked over at the new specimen. “Ruby, perhaps, for the next,” he said suddenly, as if struck by sudden inspiration.

“Perhaps,” Celebrimbor replied, still watching the newest one cool. “Where were you for the past three days?” he asked suddenly, eyes still on the ring.

“Where was I?” Annatar asked, surprise weaving its way into his calm voice.

“You heard me.”

“I was traveling,” Annatar said smoothly.

“Where did you go?”

“Why do you need to know? I left, and I returned. That should suffice.”

“If we are working together on this project, I need to know you will not abandon it at a crucial phase.”

Annatar shook his head. “I would never do something like that,” he said, but his smile as he clapped Celebrimbor on the shoulder didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I do wish to know,” Celebrimbor admitted.

Annatar didn’t even pause before he spoke again. “So suspicious of me, my friend? Have we not worked together for years? Do I not always return?”

“You do not always answer my questions.”

“A man is entitled to some privacy, surely.”

“Privacy?” This was strange coming from someone who practically spent every waking moment with him.

“Celebrimbor, my friend,” Annatar said, his tone now one of concern. “Do not go down that path. Not everyone is looking to hide things from you. If you keep speaking like that, some may think you are too much like Fëanáro.”

“You just praised my grandfather, moments ago.”

“In the forge, certainly. But outside?” Annatar paused in contemplation. “I am sure I have no need to tell you the rest of the story.”

Celebrimbor wanted to answer back that Annatar had just praised his grandfather moments ago, but something stopped him. Annatar was right, at least in that way. Most of Fëanáro’s downfall came from his failure to trust, and now here was his friend simply trying to remind him of that.

He believed that, for the most part.

There were some things that never seemed to make sense. Sometimes, Annatar would say something or do something that made no sense at all. Celebrimbor had assumed he was simply quirky at first, and was determined to not let that come between them. After all, as the only grandson of Fëanáro, friends were hard enough to come by. But then Annatar would change his tune so quickly or do something so unexpected that he would begin to question again.

“As we were saying,” Annatar said, a smile returning to his face. A true smile of a true friend. “Ruby, for the next one?”

Some part of Celebrimbor wanted to ask more, to pry and probe and really get to the bottom of this matter. If it was the first time, he could have excused it without a second glance, but his suspicions only grew. Part of him even thought that Annatar might even be trying to sabotage his work, but then all he could see was burning boats and true brotherhood squandered on a whim. He was at the point now where a kind reminder from a friend was all that was needed. There were no swords at anyone’s necks. Nothing was too far gone to save.

He wished to know the truth. But he couldn’t be like his grandfather, so slow to trust that he ended up losing everything.

“Ruby,” Celebrimbor agreed.

But if there was another usable piece of the gem, hidden away in a small box outside of anywhere Annatar would look, surely that was not too much of a return to the distrust running rampant in his line.

Hopefully.