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[ Curufin on his way through the darkness stops short. He cannot believe he is seeing what he is seeing -- so many regrets and so much pain must surely create images on the mist. But he is not easily deceived by phantoms or illusions, and so. . . this has to be real. His heart begins to beat with a force so great that it feels as though it will burst out of his chest. ]

Celebrimbor. . .

. . . One Ring to find them. Yesss?

(It is far too easy to be bitter. The Halls of Mandos have been healing to him - he looks as he did in his youth - yet innocence cannot be returned so easily. Celebrimbor is proud of the legacy he left behind on Arda...in part. There still exists that damnable Ring that threatens the lives of everyone, regardless of their race.

Annatar, I would slay you myself if given a chance.

But the Maia is out of his reach and he is alone with his thoughts, scowling in frustration. He rubs one of his temples upon hearing his name, not trusting his ears.)

Do not taunt me with my Father's voice.

You know the Black Speech.

Not much of it, my love. But we bore the Preciousss for long long yearses, we did, ssso we knowsss that bit.

Edited 2016-06-29 09:25 (UTC)

It was in your possession? (This creature...) I did not know of it; he forged it in secret.

Yesss, gollum. We had it long, until we had outliveded even dwarfses we be thinking!

We hid in our caveses all alone . . .

Do not seek it, I beg of you. It will only cause you ill. (No one should possess it. He hates its very existence.) Annatar marred my efforts with his selfish greed.

But we needs it, my love! We lovesss it above all other thingses, we must have it!

We fought to the death for it, Deagol and I, and for itsss sssake we fled into the endlesss dark.

(He frowns sadly, reaching out to touch Gollum's shoulder.)

Your worth - your life - are not tied to it. Tell me your name.

*He hisses a bit at the touch, but endures.* We are . . . I am . . . once upon a time I wasss Sssmeagol, Precious.

Now we be Gollum, my love.

[ Curufin takes one step forward, and then stops. But his face is open and his eyes soft, as they were long ago when he looked upon his son, long before the Oath estranged them. ]

I am no phantom, I am Curufin. And I do not taunt you.

Smeagol, it is my wish that you forget Gollum. I think Smeagol is a much finer fellow.

You said yourself it made you murder.

We . . . I . . . we needsss it, my love. *He looks exhausted and bewildered, torn in opposite directions.* We mussst, we musst have it back alwaysss.

It wasss ourses, it wasss our birthday, why wouldn't Deagol give usss sssuch a nice gift?

*He whimpers and pulls away a bit.* Pleassse, Elf touch isss hurting . . .

(His anger transforms into an emotion he only felt when he was by his father's side. If ever a son fiercely loved - loves - his father, it is Celebrimbor. He turns to the voice and goes very still.)

You would not taunt me. My Father was not cruel, but he left too soon.

Do you have no one to support you? (He retracts his touch, sorrow in his eyes.) You deserve a much better present for your birthday. I would forge you one.

We are lossst, we are alone. No one wantses usss. Everyone throwses usss out!

Elf isss much too kind to Sssmeagol.

I am not throwing you out, Smeagol. (He speaks gently.) I am treating you as I would any other.

[ The emotions that shake him now reflect his own fierce love for his son. He can remember that love growing cold, but he cannot fathom how he could have allowed such a thing to happen. The Oath and its cruel demands were not a good enough reason. Nothing could have been a good enough reason. The memory of how they had parted in Nargothrond was seared into his heart as though with a brand, now that he is sane enough to feel things normally again. ]

You are right, I left too soon. And I bitterly regret it. But I WAS cruel. I turned my back on you with eyes and a smile that must have been crafted out of ice. And my heart must have been made of stone. I was so wrong.

You be a good elf, Smeagol thinkses.

(He does not have the heart to be angry at Curufin; he has longed for his comfort and his guidance for so long that nothing else can intercede. A sob wells up in his throat and he covers his face, wanting to hide his weakness. He must smile for his father. He must be as he was, yet Sauron has changed him.)

I do not - cannot - blame you. Too much has transpired and I am not proud of all of my actions. (He uncovers his face and steps forward, head bowed.) Have you seen...?

Thank you. I believe you are good too.

We trieses, love, we triesss.

I pray you keep trying. That is your hope.

We hasss little hope, but we thanksss you.

A little flame is better than none.

[ Curufn would not have blamed him if he had been angry. But that sob wrenches his heart. He comes forward to meet Celebrimbor, no longer able to keep his distance. The sorrow of this young person -- who is so old in spirit, but still young in Curufin's eyes -- even though they are now offset in time, the son having lived in an Age in which his father had never walked in the flesh. ]

[ He tentatively reaches out his hands and lays them on Celebrimbor's shoulders. The contact causes his heart to start pounding again. Something flows from Celebrimbor to him and back again, through the contact. This is his son. They are, in a manner of speaking, one flesh. His fingers remember this, as he gently places a hand under his son's chin and lifts it so that he can look into his face. The bruises are painful to see, as they must be to bear. ]

You have nothing to be ashamed of. Whatever your actions, and whatever you have endured, I have only pride in you. [ He blinks and two tears slide down his cheeks. He looks into his son's eyes, and he strokes this wounded child's face with his hands, with infinite tenderness, and then enfolds him in his arms. ]

Edited 2016-06-29 11:47 (UTC)

(He does not shy away - how can he? The child he once was is crying out Curufin; for the father he lost too soon - too violently and senselessly. Celebrimbor will never understand the Oath - not fully - but he knows its strength. It took his family from him.

Under the strong hands, his body shakes - not from fright, but from overwhelming emotion. The tears course down his cheeks and he wonders how he has more to give. Will he never run out? Will his heart ever stop aching - longing for what he can no longer have?

The bruises on his face are soon joined by other wounds - gashes and burns. All of them are signs of what Sauron did to him. He looks as if he has been peppered with arrow shots.)

I did much good, Atar, yet Sauron tainted it. I fear for those left behind! (Celebrimbor sags into the embrace and holds his father tight.)

[ And oh, if Curufin could go back and change the past, how swiftly he would do so! One of the worst effects of the Oath was the way it took him from his son. It killed nearly the whole family and left their last scion behind to deal with the evil in the world as best he could. ]

[ The longing Celebrimbor feels is felt directly by Curufin, though the trembling of his son's body and the tears that flow from his son's eyes. ]

Yonya, I believe the good. And whatever Sauron's part in your life and works, I do not believe he tainted you, your spirit. [ He means, also, that Celebrimbor can tell his father whatever he needs to tell him, without fear of disapproval or judgement. Much has changed for Curufin since his death. He will never again try to use his son as a vehicle of his own dreams, or expect him to be a replica of himself and Fëanor. ]

[ He sees the bruises and the gashes and the burns, and knows that things had gone as badly for Celebrimbor as they could possibly could have. The worst has occurred -- except that his son is still himself. Curufin feels for an instant that Celebrimbor can barely stay on his feet at this moment, and he wraps his arms more tightly around him and takes the weight. He murmurs softly to him. ] My child. . .

(He holds onto his father, his fingers digging into the material covering Curufin's back. He doesn't want to let go; if he seems half a child again, he doesn't care. Celebrimbor can only focus on each breath, forcing back the memories of torture.)

The Deceiver approached me as Annatar, Giver of Gifts. He taught me how to forge great rings of power. I made three for the Elves, seven for the Dwarves and nine for Kings of Men. They were received with delight by all, yet unknown to me, Annatar - Sauron - forged another ring.

His ring is meant to control all others. (His pain over the betrayal is audible.) I turned my will against him. He slew my wife...my child...

(Before his eyes.) Then he slew me. I was able to keep the location of my rings secret. The Elvish rings in particular...reside with...Lady Galadriel, King Gil-galad and Lord Círdan.

Edited 2016-07-01 00:30 (UTC)

[ Bilbo frowns. He glances from the man's feet to his head, taking in the height and manner of him. Hm. ]

[ He frowns again. ] I'm.. sorry, I don't think I quite caught that.

[ Curufin could not care less whether this son of his is man or child or both. He is both, in his father's eyes. And if in his anguish he needs to be held like a child, that is more than all right with Curufin, because this is a thing he can give. He gathers him up in his strong arms, and lets him lean on him. ]

[ He listens. And finally he speaks, softly. ] Yes. I see. Sauron, who was Mairon, one of Aulë's Maiar. Morgoth's henchman. Lord of the Isle of Werewolves. He was so golden-tongued that he fooled the Valar into letting him go when his great master was defeated. I know of some of the events that occurred after my death, but not all.

You were trying to help our people, of course. He would have understood that and taken advantage. And of course it was you he needed -- you were already a master of the metal arts, and you knew how to invest the products of your craft with the power of your hopes and dreams. I suspect he was learning as much from you as you did from him.

I am sorry for your wife and child. And I am sorry for what you endured. Celebrimbor. . . you saved all that you were able to save. I am not surprised you gave your rings to Galadriel and Círdan. Gil-galad I never met, but he was Fingon's son and so must have been valiant. You chose well. You have my admiration for your courage and your common sense.

[ Dear son, dearest and only. ]

(Memories are awoken by the hold; good memories. Curufin had seemed impossibly strong when Celebrimbor was a child. He had loved him dearly and with the trusting innocence of an Elfling. Truth be told, that love hasn't disappeared. He understands far more than he did then, but he could never hate his father or banish him from his mind and heart.)

I could not see through his disguise. I was...enchanted by what he said. He made me feel very...proud and powerful. (Then the Maia had shown him his weakness. It had all been a lie.) I wish I could beat the information from his skull. I would find a way to torment everyone he holds dear before his eyes.

(The words are harsh and callous, yet his expression is anything but. Celebrimbor has a much kinder heart than he likes to admit.)

They are the strongest of the Elves. They can withstand his Dark power. (And keep his gift pure.) I told them all the truth and they did not shy away from their task.

(Color gathers on his cheeks as he thinks of the Lady Galadriel in particular.)

Father, I have made many mistakes, but I never let myself grow cold towards my family. I never hid my parentage and I never allowed ill words to spoken about you or my Uncles.

(What a tiny person! He smiles, wondering if Bilbo is some sort of beardless Dwarf?)

It matters not. I was only thinking aloud.

[ And Curufin, too, remembers those distant times when Celebrimbor was little and looked upon his father with love and awe. Curufin, in those days, was perpetually amazed that such a gift had been given to him -- this child, to love and cherish, to protect and teach. He could not imagine life being any richer. And those years had fled by so quickly, and the Oath had reawakened, and the state of low-level, chronic warfare had abruptly transitioned into the mind-numbing explosion of the Dagor Bragollach and its devastating aftermath. ]

[ He listens again. ] Of course you were enchanted. That is his stock-in-trade. You were unprepared for such skillful deceit, and I was not there to tell you who he really was. [ He has no way of knowing whether Celebrimbor would have been undeceived if his father had been there, but Curufin could have tried. He bitterly, bitterly regrets that he had thrown away his life on that fruitless quest for those curséd jewels and could not be there for his son when Celebrimbor really needed him. And all he can do now is to take the guilt off his son's shoulders, to whatever extent he can, and to oppose shame with love. ]

Yes, those three stood firm against the power of the Dark Lords. [ He does notice the blush, but he doesn't comment. If his son has something he wishes to say, he will say it. But his father will not pry. ]

[ He is unspeakably touched by Celebrimbor's loyalty. And his face shows it. His eyes grow dark with tenderness, and also with sorrow. ] Oh my son, you never owed us that much, however much you loved us. We wrought so much destruction, and we harmed so many people. We had much to answer for, and. . . we died, but we never really answered for our misdeeds. But you. . . [ His eyes are misting. ] . . . you have the truest, most steadfast heart of any I have ever known. I am lucky to have you for a son. I cannot think how I could have been so lucky.

Edited 2016-07-02 08:30 (UTC)

(The Oath was a parasite in the end, taking everything from those who swore it. Celebrimbor's survival had been partially due to Curufin pushing him away. That most-hated parasite could not consume him too if he remained distant; apart. And he had, though he longed for his family deeply; he hungered to see their faces and he mourned Curufin's death keenly - along with the deaths of his Uncles.

Just the memory of those dark days awakens a desperation to reassure himself that his father is real and whole. He raises a hand to touch Curufin's cheek - his hair - and he doesn't dare blink lest this reunion turn out to be a figment of his mind.)

He did not look like himself. At the time, when I thought of Sauron, I thought of a monster, perhaps. It did not occur to me that he would be beautiful and so like an Elf.

(His expression is pinched - pained - but then he thinks of Galadriel and his features relax.)

I loved the Lady Galadriel. She knew of it, I think, for I never hid such things well. I made Nenya - her ring - with her in mind and it was one of my last bright moments when she accepted it.

She and I married others - loved others - but that ring will protect her.

(The blush darkens and he leans their foreheads together, eyes clouding with tears.)

To me, you were my father, my uncles. My grandfather. I have not blinded myself to your misdeeds, yet I do not let them define you. I thought if I saw you again, I would want to tell you that, as far as I am concerned, there is nothing to forgive.

I love you, Atar. (He smiles, warm and true.) Rely on me. I will do my best to not disappoint you.

[ And that has occurred to Curufin as well. If Celebrimbor had continued to accompany his father on his dark road to oblivion, he'd have met a similar death in the caves of Menegroth, at Curufin's side. And then there never would have been the chance to establish his own identity and pursue his own dreams. It was true that his end was bitter enough -- infinitely more so than Curufin's! -- and yet, something good came of it, something Celebrimbor seems to think worthy of his efforts and of his sacrifice. ]

It was in no way your fault that you were deceived. I beg you, do not blame yourself.

[ The need for reassurance is mutual. Curufin's eyes grow soft as his face and hair are touched. He smiles at his son, and his smile is full of tenderness. ]

It is well that you have left that legacy behind -- Nenya, and the other two rings. Your love for Galadriel has not been in vain. Our people have much to thank you for.

[ And at the sight of his son's tears, as their foreheads touch, he places both hands on that head and gently strokes the dark hair, so like his own. ]

Yondo, I thank you for your words of kindness. Such compassion I never expected, but I accept it as the great gift that it is.

[ Pause, simply to consider his son's words, to enjoy the moment, and to feel all the emotions he has held in check because he never believed this moment would come. ] My heart is no longer frozen, and the love that has always belonged to you is now unlocked. But Celebrimbor, you have never done less than your best. It is I who should be making pledges to you. If there is ever anything I can do for you. . . consider it done.

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Must sleep, back tomorrow! <3

<3 <3 <3

Sorry about the delay!

It's okay! <3

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