*puts the tissue box aside*  This is a chilling, yet emotional piece. The way he describes his life, the love for his brothers and his surprise that they weep for him.

For me?

I don’t know that I deserve it. Not when there remains a Silmaril to pursue, for surely, grief for my death can wait. But the Silmaril, the reason for my death: let them find it. Let them find it and avoid this end.

It is a different motivation to claim the jewels, to avoid the everlasting dark that has driven him so far. I can't help to think, again, that he only followed his family, roused them over and over to retrieve the jewels, avoid the everlasting dark and return home again. To that orchyard with apples, to a warm bed with the woman he loved... I wish for him so, but instead he makes sure that the young twin brothers will not linger... and *pop* more plotbunnies popped up what the houseless Fëa of Celegorm could have done after this. He is what he is, no excuses made and that is what I do love to read when reading (and writing) Celegorm fic. I better put on some tevlon boots now...