New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
Celegorm twisted the gold band between his fingers. There was nothing he could do to stop the bile from rising – or his foolish cousin from returning. His throat burned, but no more than his heart. The gold band sparkled and reflected the glow of the hearth into a thousand tiny specks of fire across his face. His eyes, shrouded with pain, hardened at the sound of approaching footsteps. Curufin came and stood by his side, silent and watchful like a panther; the dangerous warning that he ought to keep his mouth shut. There were a thousand things they could say to each other, yet none would convey what coiled inside his chest like a wounded beast. He was not a master of words like some of his brothers.
If he was, perhaps he could have said something that would have made his cousin change his mind. But neither he nor Curufin had said enough. And now their foolish, beautiful cousin sought out death and, in his wake, left the betrayers betrayed with acid upon their tongues and revenge within their eyes. The cousin of golden hair and mellow voice, who had passed him over for love for someone else. Who was not his cousin, was not even his friend: a stranger, another fool seeking death and chasing impossible dreams. The vestiges of an oath swore in earnest that, as it did for him and his brothers, came to collect its price – too high, always too high.
Curufin placed a hand in his shoulder, as hot as his anger, and squeezed. Celegorm didn’t look up. There was nothing he could have done to stop him. Or was there? The whisper of a hair behind the ear, the gleam of sly seductive smiles, and the promise of a kiss in the shadows.
He had forgotten how to dream until he came to his cousin’s kingdom and now was left with nothing but cold stones and a gold band to remember him by.