All That the Waves Did Not Claim by Isilme_among_the_stars  

All the Things a Knife Can Be

The switchblade is Curvo’s make, simple, elegant and durable. He could never craft anything less, looking as he does upon unshaped metal and seeing beauty. Nelyo asked for utility, practicality. For when he considered blades that is what he saw. Curvo wrought it with flawless lines that curved comfortably into one’s hand and perfectly weighted steel slow to lose honed edge. It is deceptive in its flawlessness. Only when holding it do I realise it is an extension of my hand.

Curvo saw in it the ghost of father. Nelyo saw only survival. But when I look upon it, I see possibility. I see Elros’s smile as he holds aloft the eagle I carved. I see the blushing curl of apple skin falling into Elrond’s mouth, his eyes squeezed tight in delight, and Nelyo above him grinning, still peeling the fruit. I see the flashes of fear that shudder through both then disappear as Nelyo silently dispatches the monsters that have crept too near to us in the wilderness. I feel the outbreath of relief that comes with the giving of my flesh as the knife bites, turned on me by my own hand. The secret balm I keep locked up like poison, a last resort I guiltily run to when no other will suffice. This I do not want to see, so naturally, it is the loudest thought of all.