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My goodness! You have been busy.

I always love a good story on Celeborn.

I like battle stories more than any other. So you are a writer after my own heart, on this one.

Your Celeborn is so lovable, no matter the gruff exterior.

“Please, Uncle,” Elrond laughed. “I did learn something in that war, not to mention from my foster father.”

Celeborn did not ask which ‘father’ the boy was referring to, since he didn’t think particularly well of any son of Fëanor, but he suspected Elrond meant the eldest Fëanorion. The best he could say of Maedhros was that he had kept the twins safe and taught them well. The second best he could say of Maedhros was that he was dead.

I liked so many passages from this chapter, but this was my favorite. Loved how you showed his intense dislike for the Noldor, save the exceptions of Gil-galad and Celebrimbor, probably. It has me wondering how he is with Galadriel.

Oh! And Elrond using some of his Maia given power, liked that.

I wish I could go on and on. It was such a wonderful little story. You write him so well.

Thank you for sharing.

Thank you!

My Celeborn can take or leave most Noldor, but has a special place in hell for the Fëanorions and their followers. (Thus his attitude toward Maedhros, and preferring to ignor Pelendur whenever possible.) He and Galadriel occasionally butt heads when Noldorin and Sindarin ways are in direct conflict, but by this point it's rarely an issue for them.