White Lady, Silver Hunter, Child of Twilight. by Fiamma Galathon  

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White Lady, Silver Hunter, Child of Twilight.

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Celegorm looked into the fire, turning a stick in his fingers. Huan laid stretched behind him, head comfortably nestled on his paws.

Far above, the stars twinkled and shone, as merry and bright as they could be seen above Beleriand.

Celegorm paid them no mind. His jaw was tense, shoulders hunched, silver hair unbound and shielding his face.

The trees loomed over his camp, casting moving shadows in the firelight.

Occasionally the silence was interrupted by a soft growl, either his, or Huan’s.

If any elf who didn’t know him saw him like that, surely would flee with fear. An angry kinslayer alone in the forests near Doriath? Disaster would surely follow soon. 

The stick he was twirling dug into his palms, the heat from the campfire barely comfortable from this distance. It stung. 

His eyes stung too.

If one of his cousins, or, Eru forbid, brothers found him like that, they would surely ask him what’s wrong. Maybe try to cheer him up with some song or another.

Celegorm squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth.

He was a Lord of the Noldor, a son of Feanor. He wouldn’t cry. 

Not again.

Huan whined softly, inquiring. The hound didn’t try to comfort him anymore, knowing well it wouldn’t work. 

Huan was also sad, after all.

It was the fourth time they were here. Celegorm made a point of coming every year, at first to search, not all hope lost yet.

Now he wasn’t as delusional.

Or at least he wanted to think he wasn’t.

Hope is a stupid thing. Every time he came here, any rustle in the bushes made it flare up, any whisper of the trees rekindled it anew.

Oh, how he hoped.

It was four years. Why am I even bothering with coming here? It only hurts more every time.

The old guilt reared up again, and he fought the tears back.

If only I came home a week earlier. A week. I shouldn’t have stayed so long, I should have traveled faster. Arrggggghhh… 

It’s my fault.  

If I had been home that day. Any day before. 

She wouldn’t have gone alone. Maybe she wouldn’t have gone at all.

Valar, why. 

The stick snapped, the dry sound loud like a shout in the night.

His hands started trembling, red traces on his palms from where he gripped it too hard.

Celegorm let himself sob, covering his face with his hands. He lost count how many times he grieved for her. 

I’m sorry, so sorry, Írissë. I should have been here in time.

The fire danced before him, reacting to the pained howling of his feä. Fire loved the Feanorions.

The night was as dark and clear as before, the forest gloomy.

And Celegorm wept for his best friend, fire weeping beside him.

****

Aredhel ran.

Ran as fast and quiet as her legs could carry her, her baby thankfully asleep.

She knew Eöl would have discovered their absence already. It was night, his favorite time. 

He loved the hunt, nearly as much as herself. He was good at it. 

She perished the thought, focusing on running on the uneven wild path.

Lómion slept safely in the sling on her chest, and she found herself grateful for his still weak feä. He was born too early, and Eöl had refused to bond with him until it was sure he would survive.

Oh, how she hated that nér. His sorcery trapped her here, befuddled her mind and brought her to the role of his mere servant. 

Her son was the only good thing that came from meeting him. 

If not for Lómion she wouldn’t have even managed to free her mind. 

As she approached the edge of the wards, the edge of the forest, it became clear to her that they were weak here. Eöl rarely came near the border with Himlad, rarely lending the wards his strength.  

Across the Celon, and to the Pass. 

Only across the Celon tonight. Just enough to escape. 

Her breaths were heavy, every step burning at her feet. She was running for the whole previous day, and until now, deep into the night.

She was tired . Lómion hasn’t moved for hours now, only the flickering of his feä and the shallow rise and fall of his chest reassuring her that he was still here.

Suddenly, the insistent tugging of the wards ceased like if cut, her mind-shields finally left alone. She yelped, losing her footing for a split-second, but regained her balance by some miracle, tears of relief starting to run down her face.

She was free.

The river appeared suddenly before her, dark water glistening in the starlight. It was beautiful. The most beautiful sight she saw since Lómion’s birth.

She stopped, one hand stroking the soft, black wisps her son's hair. Her hand was nearly twice the size of his entire head, and she felt an aimless anguish rise in her soul.

Oh Valar, he is too small. I can’t keep him healthy on my own. He needs a father. A good father. Not his sire. 

Maybe Tyleko… No, no, no. ĺrissë, don’t. Don’t go here. 

Aredhel drew a sharp breath, squashing the thought away. It wasn’t time nor place. She had to focus.

There should be a ford nearby, or at least a place where I can cross. 

She bit her lip, eyes scanning the other bank of the river. 

What…

There was the unmistakable warm glow of a campfire on the other side of the river, maybe two hundred meters away. 

People. 

A flicker of hope rose in her chest. These couldn’t be orcs, or she would have smelled them from where she stood.

Please, please, Eru, let this be an ally. 

She forced herself to move, muscles protesting. 

Ten steps. Twenty. Fifty. A hundred.The water here was shallow enough that the pale light of the moon bounced back from the stones on the bottom, and flowed slowly.

Aredhel could have screamed with joy at the sight of the ford. 

Thank the Valar for small mercies.

Holding Lómion closer she entered the gelid water, and slowly, step after step, she managed to cross the river. The water lapped gently at her knees, freezing from the snow that even in late spring held strong in Himring.

It stung at her feet, and images of a white, endless expanse of ice rose unbridled in her mind. Aredhel shrugged them off.

Nor time nor place.

The golden light of the campfire beckoned her closer from between the trees. She needed to sneak closer unheard, and check who it was. 

She took a deep breath, and a slow, careful step forward.

Quiet, I need to be quiet.

The sudden rustling in the bushes before her and a very, very, very familiar whooof made her freeze in her tracks.

No, no, no, it’s impossib….

The big, gray shape of Huan nearly knocked her down, but stopped at the last second.

- Hunt-Lady! Oh, you are alive! We searched for you everywhere!- the hound wagged his tail enthusiastically, nudging her arm with his nose. She shielded Lómion on instinct, drawing Huan’s eyes to the small elfling pressed to her chest.- Pup? Oh, Hunt-Lady! Don’t worry, I would never hurt you or your pups! I’m so glad you returned…- he huffed, circling around her protectively.

- Huan, Huan…- Aredhel felt the tears of relief running down her face as she buried her head in his warm, soft fur.

Even after all this time he smelled of the meadows of Valinor. And of wet dog. 

He smelled like Huan should always smell.

She didn’t hear the approaching footsteps, nor did she stop to think logically what Huan’s presence meant.

-...Írissë?- the broken, shaky voice of Celegorm startled her out of her skin.

****

He had finally exhausted himself enough with crying to try and sleep, when out of the blue Huan leapt onto his paws.

- Celegorm! Celegorm! She is here!- he barked to him, and bolted into the forest, tail wagging happily.

Celegorm blinked a few times, confused, before the words caught up to him.

….Írissë?! 

The foolish hope that kept him coming back to this Eru-forsaken place roared with brilliancy of a forge-fire. Fumbling with his stubborn cloak he stumbled up, running behind Huan without conscious thought. 

The twigs and low branches scratched his arms and face, leaves getting into his unbound hair, but it was nothing he ever paid attention to, not before, certainly not now.

Near the riverbank he spotted the hound nuzzling against someone. 

Celegorm froze at the sight, a sight so achingly familiar and yet so alien. It was her indeed, looking tired and pale, holding onto Huan and crying into his fur. 

He suddenly found breathing an extremely hard task, eyes prickling yet again.

-...Írissë?- he whispered, incredulous. He never personally had experienced waking dreams like Neylo had after… well, After , but he knew of them.

He wasn’t sure if he could bear the grief if it wasn’t real. 

Huan! Huan is here. Huan was the first to see her, she has to be real. 

She looked up, startled by his voice, and his breath was stolen from him yet again. Her eyes were as gray as they always had been, but the light of the Trees was only a glitter smothered by a foul darkness, nothing like the raging brilliance it had been before. 

Celegorm was suddenly reminded of his eldest brother’s eyes on his bad days, when the inferno that raged behind his irises dulled to a soft ember, squished under bad memories.

No,nonononononono….Not her too, please, not her.

-Uh…Hi…Tyleko.- she tried to smile, her words nearly a whisper. It hit him how absolutely exhausted she was, swaying gently on her feet, clutching a small bundle to her chest.

-Oh, Ilúvatar, Írissë.- Celegorm exclaimed, breathless, -Hey, Íri, will it be all right if I touch your hand?- he whispered, reaching out. She swallowed, regarding his outstretched hand cautiously.

-Yeah.- with a small nod she slid the hand she was holding onto Huan into his. 

She is far too pale…Allfather. Pale and cold… Like if she was fading.

Írissë smiled at him with wonder, running her fingers over the new scars that littered his palm. 

-Tyleko, oh, Tyleko…- there were tears in the corners of her eyes now, and with a startling strength she tugged at his hand, making him come closer. - I’m so sorry.- she whispered, bringing his hand up and kissing it, a flipped facsimile of the courtly gesture that he had always insisted on doing when they saw each other back in Aman.

Celegorm inhaled sharply, overtaken by the sudden urge to hug her close and never let go.

-Írissë, can… oh .- he trailed off mid-question, eyes suddenly catching the small bundle on her chest. 

A really, really small babe slept in it peacefully, ink-black hair and pale skin contrasting sharply.

She looked after his gaze and swallowed. 

-Ah. So. This is Lómion. My…my son.- she ran a thumb over the wispy dark hair of the babe, something broken in her voice. 

He blinked, aimless rage and grief rising around his heart.

She had never wanted to bear kids, never feeling the kind of attraction that was needed for creating one. Unless the long years spent apart made her somewhat change her nature, the babe could never have been her conscious and willing decision.

She looked at him with worry when he just stood frozen looking at the elfling.

He is too small, Eru. Smaller than the Ambarussa were at birth. Something has to be wrong.

- Oh…- Celegorm cleared his throat, at loss for words. - Hi, little one. Lómion, a nice name, certainly more poetic than mine, huh?- he whispered to the elfling, flinching at a startled breath from Írissë.- How… how old is he? He is so small…- he blinked at her, grimacing a little.

-I…Four months. But the sire never deigned to feed his feä, and I couldn’t…I don’t think I can keep him from fading by myself.- she bit her lip, rearranging her arm around the babe protectively.

Celegorm bristled at the casually mentioned cruelty, but made himself calm down nearly instantaneously. 

An idea, a stupid, foolish idea struck him at once. 

He let his mind shields down a bit, just enough to reach out to her. She immediately latched onto the connection, grief, fear, love and longing whirring somewhere in her mind. 

Hi, Iri. I have a really stupid idea.

Eru, you wouldn’t believe how much I missed your stupid ideas. 

I’m flattened. First of all, can I hug you?

Celegorm startled, feeling Aredhel’s slim form basically collapse into his arms. With his mindeye open he could see the delicate, flickering feä of Lómion, more befitting an ill human child than an elfling. A string of curses manifested in his brain out of its own volition, and Írissë giggled weakly, strength finally leaving her.

This answers my question. Brace yourself.

He lifted her up in a bridal carry, startling at how light she seemed to be.

Ah, you are stronger than I remember. But this is not your stupid idea, is it?

No, no. But I first need to get some warm food into you, maybe I can even find some honey for Lómion.

Tyleko, I can walk.

Shh. Nope. I’m carrying you two to camp, no but’s. 

A wave of relief, fondness and love lapped at his shields. 

****

He put her against Huan, shuffling through his bags in search of the small jar of honey that he could have sworn he packed.

With a small noise of triumph he lifted his prize and an still unused linen handkerchief. Aredhel was munching on a piece of waybread with jerky, shadows of the fire dancing in her black hair.

-What are you up to?- she blinked at him. Celegorm grimaced, but sat beside her.

-Well. You said you can’t sustain Lómion by yourself. So. Uh.- he ran a hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ears. -I figured out I could help?- he shot her a lopsided grin, masking his fear.

Aredhel made a soft noise, eyes wide, staring at him. 

-You would?- she whispered, the light in her eyes shining a bit brighter.

- Of fucking course . You know, I’m good with children, I do have four younger brothers! Unless you wish it rather not be me, then, well, uh. I guess I could get you to the Pass in a week? Maybe we could find someone from the villages nearby, but there are mostly Northern Sindar and Edain, so for another Noldo we would need to ride at least three days, and uh. I’m afraid he is too weak for that, and so are you.- he quickly backtracked, biting his tongue. 

Even he could see he wasn’t the best father material, with the Oath and whatnot. No wonder she might not want him.

But Lómion was so small and weak, fading already, not even a year old. 

He would not see another child fade if he could do something about it. Too many of his warriors had died and orphaned elflings too young to hold their feä by themselves. He could not see this happen in his family.

-Tyleko, you dumbass, why wouldn’t I want you?! He needs someone powerful, and soon. Also someone I fucking trust , and you happen to fill all these criteria.- she said exasperately, punching him in the shoulder.

-Good, that's good. Amazing. So. Uh.- Celegorm breathed with relief.- Can I hold him?- he asked shyly, shuffling closer to press against her side. She leaned into him immediately, cold as death.

-You are as silly as you were always, cousin. Here you go.- chuckling softly she unbound the sling on her chest, passing him the babe. 

Lómion was even smaller than he initially assessed, fitting without any trouble into the crook of his arm. 

Ai, Valar, Turko or Neylo could hold him in one palm. This is bad.

He weighed nearly nothing, and didn’t even stir at being moved. Celegorm breathed softly, pressing him close to his chest. 

So cold. Eru, please.

-Hey, winimo* . You look just like your Ammë , you know, just like her.- he started whispering, wincing inwardly at the small lie.

Lómion did have his mother’s black hair and soft cheekbones, but he was pale, nearly as much as Tyleko. Aredhel was darker, as the whole line of Fingolfin. His ears also were different, sticking outward from the sides of his head, more Sinda than Noldo.

Still. He looked very much like his mother. It had to count.

Celegorm smiled at the child, trying to coax his own feä to move from the place where it usually nestled.

- She wants my stupid ass to be your Atar , can you believe it? I hope you will like me when you grow big, because I will make sure you will get as big as you can. All the best meat from the hunt for you! Maybe you will get the tall genes, and Neylo with Turko will finally have to look up to see somebody, that would be fun! Ai , come on winimo …- gently speaking to the elfling he focused on his own feä, letting it wrap protectively around the baby in his arms.

The small flame of Lómion’s feä eagerly reached out, blindly grasping for his steadily burning one.

-Good boy, just like that. I have it in abundance, take how much you need, we will get you warm again.- he muttered, slowly tying the bond in place. He was not by any means gifted in osanwë, not like his cousins were, but he wasn’t completely hopeless either. Lómion started slowly to warm up, and Celegorm sent a slow, steady stream of love-warmth-stay strong-mine now through the bond. The little flame blazed for a second, finally stabilizing.

-Good, good, winimo. Amazing.- trembling slightly from emotion he leaned down and kissed Lómion on the forehead. He could faintly feel Aredhel crying from relief into his shoulder, and Huan’s fluffy tail hitting his thigh in regular intervals. - Íri? I think he will be alright. He is a very resilient boy, aren’t you? - Celegorm laughed softly, stroking the silky cheek of the babe.

-Yes, yes he is. Ai, Ilúvatar! Thank you, Tyleko, thank you… I had started to doubt that he would make it, thank you !- Írissë mumbled into his shoulder, tears dampening his tunic, her grip around him like a vice. Celegorm sighed and smiled brightly, wrapping his free arm around her shoulders.

-There is nothing to thank for, Íri. Nothing.- he whispered, nuzzling his nose against her hair. - You can sleep now, you are safe, both of you. If he wakes that’s on me, you can sleep. Unless he will be hungry. Then well. Not like I can feed him. A bit of honey will only satisfy him so far.- he chuckled, freeing his arm to put more wood into the fire. She glared at him half-heartedly, but obediently leaned against Huan and closed her eyes. 

She was out in two minutes, exhaustion catching up to her.  

Celegorm looked at the babe in his arms, letting his hair shield his face. 

-Ai, winimo. - he sighed, reaching for a soft shawl that hung off his packs. To his great surprise the elfling stirred at the sound of his voice, newborn gray-blue eyes looking into his with a startling clarity. -O! You are awake, good, amazing.- he swallowed, feeling like his gaze pinned him down and tried to dissect.

Eleberth, why do you have a glare like Atar had at his most focused?! You are four months old for fucks sake, what the fuck.

Celegorm blinked at Lómion.

Lómion blinked back, one weak hand slowly creeping up.

-What are you trying to do, huh?- he inquired, offering him one finger to grab on.

The finger was promptly ignored in favor of a strand of white hair.

-Aiiiiii…. Fuck, eeek, shit, why do babies always go for the hair, ai, Lómion, bad boy, bad, don’t tug!- quietly yelping Celegorm untangled his hair from the tiny fist, quickly smoothing it back so it didn’t hang loose in grabbing distance. 

Lómion frowned, face scrunkling up.

Please, don’t cry, Irisse just went to sleep, she will kill me.

Celegorm winced, fully ready for a wail of epic proportions. Babies generally did not like being held by someone new. 

Lómion did not start crying, opting instead for a pout and grabbing his tunic. Small mercies.

He made a quick job of swaddling Lómion in the shawl, amazed by the calm demeanor of the child. –Huh, you are a calm fellow, aren’t you winimo ? Good boy.- Celegorm made a quick job of preparing a simple soother out of the handkerchief, putting a small spoonful of honey inside. – Here you go, a bit of sugar to keep you entertained…O, look at you, enjoying yourself? Good.- he smiled broadly, seeing the elfling sucking enthusiastically on the folded piece of linen.

I think we will get along just right Lómion. Just right. Also. Seems like you have only one name for now, huh? In Quenya too. Well. Uh. I think I will have to name you? Fun.

Wait. 

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Does this mean I’m a father now?

Ugh. Neylo will flip. Curvo too. All of them will flip. Shit.

Well, Tylepe did express a desire to be an older cousin, didn’t he?

Fuck. Uh. Eeeep.

I need to think this over when I’m less tired. Not like I can go the ‘Huan’ route, can I? You can’t speak yet, and you actually need a name from me, can’t ask you what you prefer.

Shiiiittttttt….The linguists in the family will kill me if I butcher this.

Tomorrow. For now Lómion shall suffice.

Oh, Eru, I’m a father.

Having a quiet existential crisis while looking at a baby is common, right?

Celegorm blinked back tears, caressing the soft wisps of hair on Lómion’s head.

The fire crackled happily, and the trees seemed just a tad bit less looming.

****

In the wee hours of dawn Huan woke them up, growling at the trees. Lómion had gotten fed somewhen in the night, and slept peacefully in his mother’s arms, so Celegorm had both hands free.

-What do you smell, friend?- he whispered, tying his hair back and stringing his bow.

- Danger, a stranger, ill boding stranger. Elda. Has just crossed the river. Probably tracking Hunt-Lady.- the hound growled, shuffling protectively to shield Aredhel with Lómion.

She looked wide eyed at Celegorm, a look of impending panic on her face.

-It’s Eöl, Valar, he found us, Tyleko, he will kill us.- she muttered, holding her son tighter, other hand drawing a hunting knife. 

Íri, s’allright, I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you two.

Celegorm shot her a quick reassurance through osanwë, but she slammed her shields shut, face pale and eyes glassy.

-Fuck. Íri, keep calm. If this ass knows what's good for him he won’t bother us. If he doesn’t then well. Namo will take him.- he knelt before her, gently putting one hand on her shoulder. Aredhel looked at him with wide eyes, but quickly steeled her expression into something determined.

-Good, that's the spirit Íri. Keep winimo safe, I will take care of the rest.- he stood up, slipping into his lordly persona.

Bow? Strung, on the ready. Arrows? All twenty five. Knives? Check. Sword from Curvo? Check. Huan? Growly. Good. 

Celegorm smirked cooly, standing loosely with his bow in hand next to his hound, shielding Aredhel and Lómion from view.

Eöl, huh? Always knew this idiot hid something. His rotten nature mostly. It will be satisfying to cave his face in. He hurt Irisse. 

A quiet voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like his oldest brother sighed.

He is a lord of the Doriathrim, it will have diplomatic repercussions…

Fuck him, fuck diplomacy and fuck Doriath. He hurt Írissë. Offense enough for a kinslaying, a lawful one at that! Hehehhehehehehehhehe… The law was written with the Edain in mind, but eh. Rape is rape. 

If I hide his body everybody will probably think orcs killed him, so anyway. 

-Huan, how far away?- he asked quietly, eyes trained on the forest.

- Close. Stopped where we found Hunt-Lady. O, he moves in our direction.- the hound replied, baring his teeth.

-Good. Look the most threatening you can.- Celegorm smiled, the rage he repressed earlier burning brightly.

- Do we kill, capture or let go?- the dog asked, sounding somewhat eager.

-Ah. Kill of course. You focus on shielding Íri and Lómion, I fight.- he nodded, hearing the footsteps of another elf rustling in the leaves. 

Eöl had to be blind with fury if he stomped so loudly. 

-HALT, who is coming!- Clegorm shouted, just the smallest bit of Power seeping into his voice. He wasn’t Laurë, he was generally pretty lame compared to his brother, but empowered shouting was child’s play.

His shout seemed to make everything around go quiet, the forest obligingly halting for a second.

Eöl burst onto the small clearing, a long hunting spear in hand, eyes blazing with fury. 

-YOU! Where is my wife you bastard?!- he howled, pointing his spear at Celegorm.

-Oh, I had no idea you were married, Eöl of Nan Emloth. Why, are you talking about my dearest cousin Írissë?- Celegorm raised one brow, smirking smugly.

-You know exactly what I’m talking about! You helped that ungrateful bitch escape with my son!- the dark elf stepped forward, something dark glistening on the tip of his spear.

Poison. Fuck. Careful, Huan.

The Noldorin prince warned his hound through their bond. Huan snarled, making Eöl jump back.

-First of all, don’t call her that. Second of all, who? As far as I’m aware this is my son you are talking about, because I haven’t seen other elflings in this area. And third of all, I helped no one escape, I just found somebody who I thought long dead miraculously alive in these woods. These woods that are, if I may remind you, part of my land , not yours. - feigning cold indifference Celegorm retorted, letting the Trellight glow brighter in his eyes.

Take that, fucker.

-You insolent stupid Noldo! She is my wife, and you give her BACK!- Eöl jumped, but the hunter was faster. He tore his spear from his grip, impaling it into the dirt deep enough to immobilize it, and pinned the other elf by the throat to the nearest tree. The dark elf squirmed and clawed at his hand, but Celegorm paid him no mind. 

-Last time I checked, marriage is valid only if both parties are willing and consenting without foreign influences. She wasn’t. This counts as rape, and rape is punished with death. I’m the lord of Himlad, Eöl of Nan Emloth, and you are standing on my land.- he said, voice cold as the Helcraxë.

-You wouldn’t dare! This is kinslaying!- Eöl wheezed out.

-Ah, well. Did you know that the Avari and the Edain don’t count killing other people of their kind as kinslaying? Just murder. Or justice.- Celegorm smiled pensively, tightening his grip. - A good thing I’m experienced at killing kin then.-  he dropped his bow, long, white knife appearing in his free hand.

-Tylekormo Turkafinwë!- Irisse’s shout made him freeze in place.

-Yes, Fána Herinya*?- he inquired, her best known title still familiar on his tongue. Eöl seethed in his grip, but try he might, he couldn’t free himself.

-Before you kill him, let me do something.- Celegorm could hear the vindictive smirk in her voice, and some deeply hidden part of himself shuddered with ill placed compassion for the whirting nér before him.

He obediently changed his grip, twisting Eöl’s hands behind the tree, swiping four knives from his belt on the way. He stood here, holding the dark elf in place, and watched as Irisse gently set the bundle of warm scarf that was Lómion on his sleeping bag and stormed closer. 

She halted before the tree, and kicked Eöl between the legs with all of her furious strength. 

-That is for kidnapping me.- she kicked him again, harder. - That’s for being a dick.- and again. -And that’s for controlling my mind for fucking four years.- she stepped back, satisfied. 

Eöl’s screams startled the birds, but Celegorm held fast on his hands and didn’t let go. 

-Eöl of Nan Emloth, for the crime of rape and enslavement with sorcery, by the laws of this land you are to die. May Namo judge you fairly.- the lord of Himlad whispered into his ear, white knife flashing.

With a last scream the dark elf died.

-Well, that went well.- Írissë blinked, incredulous. - He didn’t even try to cast spells.-

-Yes.- Celegorm shook his head, shedding his lordly persona. - Are you all right?- 

-Mostly.- she nodded, picking Lómion up. The elfling didn’t even stir, but his feä was stable.

-Good. So. Let’s go? I will dispose of the corpse, and you pack the camp. And then to Ost Aglon. Unless you have another destination in mind.- he shrugged, wiping his knife.

-Ost Aglon sounds good. How is Curufin doing?- Irisse asked, absentmindedly strapping Lómion to her chest.   

-Ah, you know, the usual. He had some new projects going on, I couldn’t understand everything, but…

****

A letter from Tylekormo Turkafinwë, known as Celegorm Lord of Himlad to Maitimo Neylafinwë Russandol, known as Maehedros Lord of Himring, Head of the House of Feanor.

Dearest brother,

I’m writing to you to inform you of an accident that occurred on the 40th day of corië* of the current Year of the Sun. I was on my annual trip to the borders with Nan Emloth, where I had an unexpected, but joyous encounter. 

It may result in a minor diplomatic crisis, and thus, I write to you to inform you that you are an uncle once again, by the way of me, obviously. I cordially invite you to my son’s begetting day, which will take place on the 12th of lairë*.

Always diplomatic, 

Celegorm

PS. Before you freak out on me, you do know the other parent. Chill.

****

Maedhros stared at the letter from his brother, uncomprehending. 

Celegorm. 

Celegorm has gotten himself a child?

Celegorm?!

How? When? WHy? He isn’t even married! I would know! How did he acquire a child then?! 

A loud string of curses in all the languages of Endore made his herald peek into his study, checking on him.

- My Lord? Is everything all right?- she asked, blinking at the sight of Maedhros pacing with the letter in hand, looking at it like if he wanted to burn a hole through it.

- Fainruin*. Greetings. Yes, its all right. Completely all right. Just Tyleko driving me crazy as always. Nothing to see here. He apparently acquired a son.- his clipped no-nonsense tone devolved into a grumbling rant.

-Why. Just why. Of all of our breed me and him are the most unfitting to become parents. How. WHitH WhoM? Why is Nan Emloth involved?! Raich !- with a wordless cry of exasperation he threw the letter on the ground, facepalming.

-My Lord, uh. It seems like a… family emergency to me? Alas. Uh. Congratulations on becoming an uncle I guess? Do I need to prepare you a horse?- Farnruin stuttered, coughing to cover a laugh. 

She never saw her Lord this…expressive. Apparently his brothers made him more dramatic. 

-Yes, thank you. I’m going to twist his ears permanently, Valar, why this idiot couldn’t have informed me sooner?!- 

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Chapter End Notes

I hope you enjoyed! I am still learning my ropes here on the SWG, so thank you for sticking with me thus far!