For Those Who Hold a Silmaril In Their Hands by LadyBrooke

Erellont is young when Finrod leaves Nargothrond, and he cries out when he sees his uncle leave with Finrod.

Finrod pauses, and motions to his uncle, who only shakes his head. He knows what his uncle is saying, that he is loyal to their lord, and will not forsake their quest. Finrod looks pained at that, and Erellont can see Celebrimbor pursing his lips together where he stands with Orodreth’s family.

It is no use. His uncle leaves with them, and he hears his mother cry when word comes later that all were slaughtered and all are dead, except Beren, who is returned.

He is young, but he knows that is not how things are supposed to be. Men remain dead, and Elves are reborn.

But the Valar have betrayed them in everything else. He wonders if they will now take even this assurance from them, and if they will ever manage to regain any of their trust or if that is reserved for those that hold a Silmaril in their hand. 

Chapter End Notes

I was going to make him a man. 

And then I decided it was more fun to torture him by making him an elf and his fate parallel his uncle's, as the less important and not anywhere close to ever having a Silmaril part of the quest. 

Also, if you see this Oshun, I told you when your bio of him was posted that it made me want to write fic! It many not be very fleshed out, because I am slow if the character is not a Fëanorion or Sindar, but it did inspire a fic. :D 

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