On the paths of life by Aprilertuile  

---

Chapter 8: First visit at Oromë’s

---

The meeting with his parents had been interesting. Lunch had been a chaotic, fun and interesting experience. But also pretty long. They gathered together at around 1pm and ended up leaving the pizzeria at nearly half past 4. 

But now, Celegorm wanted to talk to someone else. Someone who supported and talked to him as an adult instead of playing games. He was still keyed up and he… He didn’t know what to do with it all. 

That’s how Celegorm came to knock at the door of a quaint little house with an elegant entryway. 

He didn’t know if anyone would be there, it wasn’t yet 5pm, Oromë and Vána both might be at work. 

Predictably, no answer came. 

So Celegorm took the decision to see if the garden’s side door was unlocked… It was, so Celegorm entered the garden and decided to wait here, out of view of the street, hopefully in Nahar’s company. 

------------------- 

When Oromë came back home, at quarter to 6, he was surprised when Vána immediately turned to him, grinning, and signed to him to both come to her and remain silent. He raised an eyebrow, wondering what got into her this time, or what Nahar had done this time, more probably, but did so… 

And he blinked at the scene he found in the garden. 

Their very young friend Celegorm was there, in their garden, sleeping against a very much also sleeping Nahar, directly on the floor, in the shade of their fruit trees. 

“How did he even…” Oromë whispered. 

“Shush, love, he’s welcome here and you know it.” Vána said, clearly having no time for his token protest. 

Oromë eyed her sideways at that: “Of course he’s welcome, I’m only questioning the fact he had our address.” 

“Your name isn’t that common, love. Finding you would be child play.” Vána pointed out if that was obvious. 

That was… Fairly true. 

While Oromë was pondering the situation, he saw Vána pull her phone out and point it at the sleeping duo. 

“Did you just take a photo of them?” 

“Of course I did. And I’m printing it and I’ll surprise Celegorm with it next time he comes. Also this is absolute proof that Tulkas is right and Nahar is actually a terrible guard dog!” She said smugly. 

Oromë rolled his eyes at that: 

“Nahar is an excellent guard dog only he knows Celegorm for we meet on the trails pretty often and he knows he’s… a friend. A young friend.” 

“Go and wake up the boys, I’ll prepare a tea. And coffee for the addicts, right love?” 

Oromë sighed at that. He was not an addict, thank you very much. He could stop anytime he wanted. He grimaced as that sentence did make him sound like an addict. He sighed again: it was just coffee, not some doubtful, illicit substance. 

He opened the glass door of the garden and that alone awoke Nahar who raised his head. And THAT is what woke up Celegorm. 

“Uh? Oh hi, Oromë.” 

“Hi Celegorm. Welcome to my home?” 

Celegorm blushed: 

“Uh… Sorry for that? I may have sort of… You know… Spoken of you to one of my brothers who’s a bit paranoid and he researched you and when I asked him he gave me your address?” 

“Why paranoid?” 

Celegorm sighed sadly: 

“Apparently everyone in the family thinks that going to the national park is suicidal. If you knew how often I hear the statistics of all the death and lost of the national park…”

Oromë snorted in amusement: 

“As I’m often reminded, our national park is the one holding the record for that. And wouldn’t you know, as soon as I said I met someone on the trail and that we exchanged phone numbers, they were convinced you were a psychopath.” 

“Seeking to lure you somewhere safe to do something unmentionable to you when we already met on the trail, somewhere without anyone close enough to hear or see anything?” 

“I never claimed my family made sense. Or my friends, come to think of it as I heard the same from Loscarmë. Uh. Friend since middle school. You know… Come to think of it, I think most people in my life believe I’ll be one day killed on the trail.” 

Oromë chuckled at that: 

“Vána’s gone to the kitchen to prepare tea and coffee.” 

Celegorm perked up at that: “Coffee?” 

“Don’t say it too hopefully, you’ll be called an addict before you know it.” Oromë warned him in a pouting voice. 

Celegorm cackled at that, well aware of the couple’s habit to tease each other to insanity. 

He and Nahar followed Oromë to the kitchen where they found Vána indeed preparing tea and coffee and a plate of snacks. 

“Hm. I uh… I came to talk to you. Hm… I hope I’m not bothering you? I mean, I can come back later, or we can… Meet on the trail or something instead. I… Didn’t think?” 

Oromë snorted at that: 

“You’re not bothering us. You just surprised us. If I had known I had company at home, I’d have come back a bit sooner instead of making a detour on my way home.” 

Celegorm shrugged at that: 

“I’m not in a hurry. I told dad I was meeting with friends and I told Loscarmë not to seek me out today so no one will be waiting for me.” 

“Oh?” 

“I sort of ran out of ways to tell him and tell the family that I’m meeting you on the trail pretty often and you aren’t a psychopath out of my blood or whatever it is they actually think. So just, you know, not telling them before I meet you also works.” 

“We met on the trail. If I had wanted to do anything to you I didn’t need to befriend you first.” 

“I know! But according to them I have apparently more probabilities to meet a psychopath on the trail than a normal person. Just ignore it, I certainly do. Dad’s been on a doom and gloom prediction over my no doubt tragic fate since I discovered I could come wander the national park on my own when I was 10ish.” 

“Excuse-you. Did you say you were coming to the park, alone at 10?” 

“Hm… Nah. I stayed by the entrance at that time. I started to wander the park proper at 12, not 10. But 10 is when I discovered I could come and enjoy sunny days climbing trees behind the ranger station.” 

Oromë looked at him flatly: 

“Let me reformulate. Why were you alone to wander the city at 10?” 

“… Because mom and dad are workaholics who popped 7 children, never stopped working and trusted their two eldest and a bunch of successive au pairs to keep track of us all. Not to be blunt but Nelyo’s 6 years older than me, at 16 he had high-school to panic about, and mom and dad did hire an au pair or several while we were growing up but again, there were 7 of us. My brothers are all mostly more indoor people than outdoor people but a single person can hardly be asked to keep efficiently track of 7 children of various ages. More so when they’re the same age than the oldest and infatuated by him and more likely to be found trying and failing to seduce his homosexual ass than to care for us kids.” 

Oromë pinched the bridge of his nose at that. 

“That explains much actually.” Vána commented. 

“Oh?” 

“You treat the national park like it’s your backyard. I’m not going to lie, my husband is there as often as you only because he’s a hunter, has a high energy dog that must go for a walk at least 3h a day and is a professional firefighter so needs to stay fit. No one else we know is in that park as much as you if they’re not paid to do so. But if you found comfort there while being ignored at home growing up… Well…” 

“I was not ignored at home. I slipped away unnoticed when home was too crowded and noisy for me but had the parents on my case whenever they caught me, and that was pretty often.” 

“Agree to disagree, but it’s over and done with, Vána.” Oromë intervened firmly. 

“Anyway, so yeah, I get pretty much daily predictions that the national park will be my death one day and I’ll cross paths with a psychopath out for blood and I’ll just disappear and no one will ever find me again, leaving the grieving family behind to wonder forever and ever what happened to me.” 

“… Cheerful.” Oromë commented flatly. 

“Isn’t it? Note that it doesn’t stop me from going there anyway.” 

“And so your family knows about Vána and me?” 

“Hm… about you and Nahar actually. Hm… Sorry Vána?” 

Vána looked amused at that. Of course he’d speak of the dog but not of her. Flattering. 

“So, to what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?” Oromë asked with a fond smile. 

“Several subjects… I just… I got my finals results. 97/100. I passed with honours. I’m glad about that.” 

“Congratulations!” Vána exclaimed. 

“Thank you. And… Well. I talked with dad. And… It was all a test. According to him we need to show we can be independent and stubborn and serious and ready to make sacrifices to become what we want so all his threats and promises to not pay for further schooling were just empty threats basically. All a stupid game…” 

“That… Alright, aside from the fact I find that disgraceful from a father to play that sort of game, you sound bothered. Isn’t it good news?” Oromë asked cautiously. 

“I had plans. Plans to find a job, find an apart. I sorted out my belongings so I could even move fast if need be. And now I know I know that I can stay at home, all expenses paid and I find that I have no idea what to do with myself. Of course I’ll study but…” 

“But you planned for being busy at the limit of your abilities once in university, and now you find yourself at lose ends.” 

“Yeah, pretty much.” 

“And what do you want to do with that?” 

“I hated the job I had until June, don’t get me wrong. If I never again have to work in a shop, it’ll still be too soon.” 

Vána, who owned a flower shop where she took turn with a single other employee at the counter, laughed lightly at that, amused at his dramatics. 

“But?” 

“But there was a sense of freedom in having my own job.” 

“Then why don’t you find another job?” 

“I’m lucky enough to be able to go through university without worrying about money or food or whatnot. Oromë, why can’t I just be happy about that and just… Enjoy that?” 

“Because your father’s little game was distasteful and you’ve lived since before I met you in march with the fear of ending in the street with nothing to your name. Trust once broken is hard to regain, and I don’t doubt that somewhere within your mind that little insidious ‘what if that too is a game’ is here and making itself known.” Oromë said flatly. 

Celegorm fell silent at that. 

“I really don’t want to go back to work in that shop.” Celegorm whispered mulishly. 

“If it can help, we’re always looking for volunteer firefighters. You’re not really gaining a standard salary but every hour you’re on the clock you’re compensated for it.” 

“Call me stupid but isn’t that how it usually works? You work you get paid, you don’t work…” 

“It’s more of a ‘per call’ thing. You’re not paid for the time you train at the station for example.” 

“Ah. Yeah. Ok. Tell me more?” Celegorm asked curious. 

Vána smiled, listening as Oromë explained to Celegorm what volunteer firefighter did and how necessary they were and… 

Celegorm, may be, or may not be interested, Vána didn't know, but he was watching her husband like he was holding all the answers of the universe.