The Son of Curufin by Caranthol

Chapter 1: The Departure of Finrod 

The Man was haggard and his clothes were tattered, but he looked noble nonetheless as he proudly stood before the King. Celebrimbor watched when he was brought before the throne, wondering this. Finrod rose to greet the man. 

”Well met, Beren son of Barahir! The renown of your deeds has spread to my halls from the North. Indeed your tale must be grim and dark, deeming from your appearance. I invite you as my guest. Rest from your toil and may your heart be glad soon!” 

Beren bowed. 

”O King Finrod Felagund, the Friend of Men, I thank you for your words. But my heart knows no rest before it has what it desires.”

”And what may that be, honoured friend?” Beren looked Felagund into his eyes. 

”That could be better discussed without too many ears hearing us.” 

Finrod nodded. 

”Very well, let us retire to my chambers. But before that you will be given new clothes and a bath will be prepared. Let no one say that Finrod Felagund treats his guests badly.” 

The King gave orders to servants and sat down. With a gesture of his hand he signalled to the looking crowd to leave the hall. The Elves streamed out of the great doors and Celebrimbor said to Curufin: 

”Father, do you know what that means and what this Beren desires?” Curufin shook his head. 

”No, but there are rumours that he caused some trouble in Doriath. That at least is where he is coming from, though I wonder how he ever could penetrate the Girdle.”

 With a slight frown he went on:

”But hear my words: Finrod is not wise to love the Men so much. They are weak, and soon they die, like leaves of forest in autumn. They are of limited use as allies. I do not say they are useless, but the reliance some like Finrod and Fingolfin put upon them is beyond me.” 

Celebrimbor looked at his father, disapproval in his eyes. 

”Do not think that I am rude or disobedient, but I must say this: The Men die like the leaves, it is true, but like flowers in spring their race blossoms ever anew. Father, just remember the valour of the Third House. Mighty are their warriors and their lords are noble. Have you not seen Hador Lórindol?” 

Curufin stroked his chin slowly with his slender fingers. 

”You are partly right, my son. I spoke like this only because my dreams have been dark of late and a strange restlessness is on me. Great things will happen, before the year has ended. Mark my words.” 

They came to a crossing of corridors and parted, for their chambers were far from each other. Such had been the influx of refugees to Nargothrond after Dagor Bragollach that there was little choice when it came to apartments. Celebrimbor bade his father good night and strode towards his rooms. 

------ 

Surprise and confusion was great the next day, when Finrod announced that he would leave with Beren to aid him in his quest. He told the full purpose of this desperate venture to his shocked people. It was too much, for Celegorm rose, drawing his sword. The son of Fëanor cried: 

”Be he friend or foe, an evil spirit of Morgoth, an Elf, a child of Men or whatever creature of Arda, no law, no love, no alliance with evil, not the might of the Valar, no sorcery will protect him from the eternal hatred of the sons of Fëanor if he takes or finds even one of the Silmarils and keeps it. For we claim the Silmarils as ours alone until the end of the world.” 

Finrod signed him to be silent, but Celegorm went furiously on, almost threatening the King himself. Of the Oath of Fëanor he spoke, calling the wrath of Ilúvatar upon anyone who dared to break it or help someone to do it. Some of the audience trembled, such was the hatred and force of the words. Many were hesitating, not sure if they should believe Celegorm or follow their King. When Celegorm finally stopped, Curufin rose and spoke: 

”O honoured King, forgive my brother the rashness of his words. In his fury he does not think what he says. But he is right nonetheless. For we cannot see the Silmarils in any hands save our own. Does not the law of the Noldor say that father’s works belong to his sons if he goes to Mandos? Is Thingol a son of Fëanor?”

He gazed around the hall, smiling as he saw the crowd listening him in attentive silence. He continued with a melodious voice, very unlike the harsh cries and exclamations of Celegorm. 

”People of Nargothrond! I do not tell you to be cowards or to let your beloved King down. But this venture is, I do not say folly, but at least desperate, and leads only to grief for those who take part in it. Would you risk your lives trying to gain a jewel to a greedy Avar, who in his pride thinks his daughter is more valuable than the Silmarils? Would you risk the wrath of the sons of Fëanor? Our oath binds us and as my brother said we would not tolerate anyone to steal our heritage. I do not threaten you, but keep in mind that our friendship is not lightly cast aside.” He paused, smiling again. He could see that now was the time for the final blow. 

”And there could be even worse than that. What if you give aid to this quest and succeed? Morgoth’s hand is long and he does not forget any injury or wrong. Even if you give the Silmaril to Thingol, the Enemy would have his revenge on you.” 

Curufin’s voice had been calm, but now he raised it a little. Raising his hand, he spoke with a tremulous voice: 

”Think about what could result! The gates of Nargothrond broken, the Orcs and Glaurung plundering and destroying at will! You and your beloved slain, your wives and children taken in chains to slavery or a fate worse than death. No songs would be made of the last battle, for no bard would be left alive, no one of you would! Hear me, o wise Noldor of Nargothrond and stay in your halls in bliss and peace! For the alternative would be death and darkness.” 

Curufin wiped sweat from his brow, bowed to Finrod and sat down beside his son. He whispered: 

”I succeeded, I know it. See how they tremble!” 

Celebrimbor only nodded. He accepted the thoughts of his father and admired the skill with which he could make a speech without any preparation. But he didn’t like the way Curufin and Celegorm treated the King. They were guests, after all, and without Finrod’s friendliness they would be in sore plight. He remained silent, however, for it would have been disrespectful to oppose his father publicly. 

Celebrimbor looked at Finrod and pity flooded him. The King’s eyes clearly showed his disappointment of his people. He stood before the throne like a statue, only his knotted fists and a slight red on his cheeks betraying the storm which raged in him. The people in the hall muttered to each other and Celebrimbor heard comments like: 

”Felagund is no Vala to command us! If he wants to throw his life away, let him do it, but I am no thrall of his.”

”You are right, I am even not of his people originally.” 

Seemingly the King heard the whispers, too, for he took his crown from his head. He threw it before his feet with a great clatter. The crowd was suddenly silent, and Finrod said, his eyes blazing: 

”You can break your oaths to me, but my own promises bind me. If amongst you there is someone over whom the shadow of the curse has not fallen yet, I can have even someone as my companion and do not leave like a beggar, who is driven out of the gates.” 

Ten of the Noldor rose and strode before the King, bowing low to him and offering their swords. One of them, Edrahil by name, picked up the crown and gave it back to Finrod, saying: 

”Lord, give this to a steward until you return. For you are my king, and theirs, come what may.” 

Finrod took the crown and gave it to his brother, saying: 

”Orodreth, to you leave I my realm. I trust you will rule wisely and that all is well when I come back. If I fall during the Quest, however, the crown belongs to you, for I have no son.” 

Orodreth bowed gravely, tears rolling down his cheeks. Celebrimbor watched this with growing emotion. His eyes were moistened, too. His heart raced as the pity for the valiant King took him over. He hardly heard Orodreth’s reply: 

”Brother, your trust is not in vain! May the Valar protect you on your journey and may you succeed and return soon!” 

Finrod placed the crown on his brother’s head and came down from the pedestal where the throne was. The crowd silently divided as he strode through it, not looking right or left nor speaking. His face was hard as steel, and many bowed their heads in shame, including Celebrimbor. Only the ten companions and Beren followed the King.  

Chapter End Notes

Read and review, please. In the last scene I have taken much material from the Silmarillion, translating from my Finnish copy, for I don’t own the English one. But I guess it is only better that it isn’t a hundred-percent copy. Curufin’s speech and the conversation between Finrod and Orodreth, however, are completely my own writing. In the next chapter Lúthien will be featured. I will post this story one chapter at a time, since I must check possible errors in the story.

Chapter 2: The Eventful Hunt 

A loud knock on the door made Celebrimbor start. He sighed irritably and rose. So much for a quiet morning of work! He left the gem he had been cutting on the table and walked to the door. Opening it he saw Curufin and Celegorm, both in hunting attire. Beside Celegorm stood Huan, the great hound which the Noldo kept in high esteem. Curufin said: 

”Good morning, son! I and your uncle are going to hunt for some days, for it is feared that wolves have come here from the north. We thought that maybe you would like to accompany us.” 

Celebrimbor hesitated. 

”I do not know if I want. I was working on a wondrous jewel when you arrived. Its cutting demands my attention.” 

Curufin smiled. 

”I am delighted to see that the skill of Mahtan and my father has descended on you. But come, it is not good to become so absorbed in your craft that you forget the joys of life. I deem that your hand would be surer and your mind clearer if you grasped the bow or spear sometimes instead of pen or silver-smith’s hammer.” 

Celebrimbor felt that his father was right. It was early spring and a little trip to the woods would be delightful indeed. Besides, if he studied the light and colours in the forest for a few days, he could maybe see how to cut the stone so it would reflect light better. Celegorm was impatient and when Celebrimbor did not answer for a moment he exclaimed: 

”Now, brother, let us go, with or without him! If he wants to spend his days like a maiden, dreaming in his chamber, then let it be so. Let us depart for works of men!” 

The insult was needless and Celebrimbor frowned slightly. Of all of his uncles he liked Celegorm the least, for the older Noldo did not think before speaking and was haughty. Sometimes he seemed to take delight in insulting others. Curufin’s face darkened and he would have rebuked Celegorm for jeering at his son, but Celebrimbor answered civilly: 

”Uncle, the works suitable for men are many, although my craft is perhaps not the greatest among them. But if you insist, I will accompany you. I indeed long now for some fresh air.” 

He went inside and changed his hunting clothes on. With a last longing look to his tools and gems he strode outside and followed Curufin and Celegorm.

 ------ 

Soon Celebrimbor didn’t rue at all that he had come, since the hunting trip was indeed delightful. In the third day of the journey the sun rose red from the cloudless horizon, making the awakening forest and the banks of Narog breath-takingly lovely. He straightened in his saddle and breathed deeply. The air was full of scents of spring. Flowers bloomed and the leaves were opening, bright green. Against the dark tree-trunks and boughs they seemed strangely joyous, as if celebrating the passing of long winter. Only here and there, in the deepest shades and hollows, still were some patches of snow. They gleamed white in the growing sunlight, sparkling like diamonds. A slight and warm south wind blew, birds dancing on its wings, singing in joy and gratitude of the return of the warmth. In moment like this the world seemed to be young again, like an echo of the first Spring of Arda before the time of the Two Trees. 

Celebrimbor descended from his saddle and took a piece of parchment and a fine pen from his saddle-bag. He had separated from Curufin and Celegorm as each of the three were looking for the wolves. But there were none to be seen, so now it was a good opportunity to make some sketches. Celebrimbor was famed for his carving on silver and stone, as well as for his skill with precious stones. On trips like these he usually carried drawing-materials with him, ever in search of new ideas. 

He sat down and began to draw a mighty oak, standing far from other trees. He watched it carefully, and set the pen on the parchment. It would make a good motif for a plate, for example. He observed the patterns of shade and the filtering of the sunlight through the leaves especially carefully. He took a coloured glass lens and looked through it in different angles. He began already to have clearer ideas as how to cut the green stone he had been working on. 

After making careful sketches about the surfaces of the stone and their sizes, he began to draw the oak. He smiled, for he felt completely new thoughts for executing his artwork and handicraft growing in him. 

”This little venture was not wasted time, after all,” he thought as he drew with quick and precise fingers the last details of the tall tree. He was pleased at his own skill, every single bough and leaf was just like in reality. It would need only little finishing. But as he drew the last line, a loud horn was blown nearby. He was startled and the pen slipped, blotching the beautiful picture with ink all over. 

With a sigh of irritation Celebrimbor rose and mounted his steed after putting the pen and parchment away. He had to go, for the horn was that of his uncle’s. They had agreed that at hearing a horn-call the other two should haste to the one who had winded it. Evidently Celegorm had encountered some prey, probably the wolves. Celebrimbor spurred his horse, since obviously haste was needed. His proud uncle wouldn’t call for aid if he didn’t seriously need it. 

------ 

After a quarter an hour Celebrimbor came to a glade, where his father and uncle already stood, Huan beside Celegorm as usually. But there was a third person as well, an elf-maiden apparently! The three seemed to be in lively conversation. When Celebrimbor rode nearer they stopped and looked at him. He jumped from the back of his steed and strode to greet them. Curufin bowed to the lady: 

”Fair maiden, this is my son Celebrimbor, a great master of working on precious stones and silver. Celebrimbor, greet Lúthien, for indeed the daughter of Thingol stands before you.” 

Celebrimbor looked at the maiden in wonder. He had heard many tales of her beauty but they fell far short of reality. Lúthien’s skin was so fair that it was almost white, yet lovely. In her grey eyes glimmered the light of wisdom. Deep blue like a summer night were her clothes except for a cloak that was like weaved from shadow, slender were her limbs and body. She smiled at Celebrimbor and he felt like the sun would have come out of clouds. Not too great was the price Thingol had demanded from Beren, for Lúthien was more like a being of Valinor than any of the Eldar. She spoke with a voice that was melodious and clear as a mountain spring: 

”I am rejoiced to meet you, lord Celebrimbor. Your gracious father and uncle have already promised to help me in my plight, even before I have had the opportunity to tell it to them. Lord Celegorm even accepted to escort me to Nargothrond.” 

Celebrimbor was puzzled. Curufin and Celegorm knew well the matter of Beren. He looked at his father and opened his mouth to speak. But Curufin warned him to be silent with his stern look and a slight gesture. So Celebrimbor said:

 ”Fair Lúthien, happy is the hour we meet. For no song can make justice to your beauty. I am gladly in your service like my relatives here.” 

Lúthien offered her hand to him and he took it, a thrill going through his body. He struggled with his emotion, reminding himself that the maiden was promised to another. Were Beren a Man or an Elf, Celebrimbor told himself that it would be low and unworthy of his high birth to rob another man’s beloved. Somehow he managed to steady his mind and turned to take the reins of his steed.

 ----- 

They rode slowly towards Nargothrond, Lúthien on Celegorm’s horse and the Noldo walked beside it, conversing with her. The father and the son rode some distance behind them. Celebrimbor was thoughtful and asked Curufin: 

”Father, why did you not tell her that we already know about Beren and his Quest? I cannot understand anything of this.”

Curufin bit his lips.

”I will tell you later. Now, suffice it to say that she intends to follow Beren and it seems unwise to me. And Celegorm is wholly fascinated by her. See, how they speak and how he looks at Lúthien.” After a pause he added: 

”I thought I saw that you also were impressed by her. What would you say if you could marry her?” 

Celebrimbor answered: 

”If she was not in love with Beren, I would avoid no danger or toil to win her heart. But as she is betrothed to him, I have no intention of wooing her.”

The answer of Curufin was soft.

”And why is that so?”

”It would be petty and treacherous. No Elf-lord, if he respected his good name would chase a woman who is already bound to some other.” 

Curufin shook his head, smiling sourly. 

”Beren is only a Man and will never return from his journey. I tell you that it would not be unpleasant to me to see you having sons with her, to continue our line. Besides, betrothal is not the same as marriage, it can be broken. Who would accuse her if she cast a haggard, homeless Man aside in favour of a mighty and skillful Elf-lord?” Celebrimbor answered, a bit heatedly: 

”I respect any vow, be it betrothal or marriage. My hand will never break the bond between her and Beren.” 

Curufin said, coldly: 

”As you wish. Then she will be Celegorm’s, if he succeeds in winning her heart. I command you to say no word of this to her, or anyone else.” 

They fell silent, Celebrimbor thinking worriedly about the words of his father. 

------

When they arrived to Nargothrond after a few days, Celebrimbor wondered that they entered via a small side door, not the main gates. Without knowing why, his heart had grown heavier during the journey. Curufin and Celegorm had whispered to each other when they were out of earshot, only to stop if Celebrimbor approached them. Often their glances had wandered to Lúthien, and the gleam in Celegorm’s eyes made Celebrimbor shiver. The maiden was unaware of this, seemingly wholly trusting the Noldorin lords. Respecting the will of his father Celebrimbor did not try to warn Lúthien of their intentions, though it pained him. 

Now they came to the corridor where Celegorm’s chambers were, having seen no one but the guards at the door. By chance or design they had arrived at midnight so that most of the Elves were sleeping or in the feast halls in the upper parts of the caves. They arrived to the door of Celegorm’s chamber and strode in. When inside, Celegorm bowed. 

”Lady Lúthien, let me offer my rooms to your use. I will retire to my brother’s chambers so that you will not be bothered.” 

With a gracious gesture of her hand Lúthien thanked the Noldo and set her cloak aside on a chair. She spoke: 

”Your hospitality is very welcome, lord, for my journey has been long and tiring. If you excuse me, I will now retire to sleep.”

”Fair lady, it is a pleasure to help you. I have only a few things to collect and take with me, so you can go to the bed chamber. We will leave in a moment.” 

Lúthien smiled at them and went in the inner room. Celebrimbor turned and strode out, waiting before in the corridor. Curufin and Celegorm soon returned with Huan, smiling faintly and exchanging a pleased look. Celebrimbor was surprised to see that Celegorm carried the cloak of Lúthien. Before he could say anything, Celegorm took a key and turned it in the lock silently. Celebrimbor had suspected something like this, but was shocked nonetheless that his father and uncle could trick a lone maiden to be their captive. He tried to speak, but Curufin covered his mouth with his hand.  

”Not a word, son. I will explain later.” 

Taking the arm of Celebrimbor Curufin walked away, leading his son. Once they were in Curufin’s rooms, Celebrimbor said: 

”Why did you do this? What has Lúthien done that you imprison her like this?” 

Curufin poured some wine for them and said, gesturing Celebrimbor to sit on a chair: 

”She has done nothing – yet. We did this for her own safety. She said many times that she would follow Beren. Could you see a maiden so lovely to walk in her death and not try to stop her? Our hearts told us that she could not be restrained save by a little treachery. We only keep her behind the lock as long as it takes the news of the outcome of the quest to arrive.” 

Curufin’s voice was very convincing, but he didn’t look Celebrimbor in the eyes. Instead, his gaze wandered to his feet and the wine as he swirled it, his hand a little unsteady. Still, Celebrimbor could tell that he did not tell everything because he knew his father so well. He said: 

”Father, do not try to deceive me. You told me that Celegorm fancied her. You both hope that Beren never returns. But my heart tells me this: Lúthien is destined for something greater than to be Celegorm’s wife, and Beren is a part of that fate, in good or bad. That Man could even get through Melian’s shadows and mists. Father, I fear for you. Do not try to hinder fate, no good can come of it.” 

Curufin raised his eyes, now angry. 

”You cannot tell me what I must do and what not! What do you know about fate, you who spend your days playing with shiny trinkets! Long have I hoped that you would be like me, sharing my ambitions and hopes. I thought that the day had arrived I could finally disclose my plans to you. It seems I was wrong.” 

Celebrimbor rose to leave, not desiring to anger Curufin further. He bowed. 

”I am sorry, I did not want to be impertinent. I love you, and my heart darkens for some reason whenever I think of future, for I see something evil in store for you. Perhaps I am mistaken. Do not be angry with me, for my fear and love for you speaks through my mouth. I regret if I have disappointed you with being more like my grandgrandfather than you.” 

He turned and walked to the door. But before he could leave, Curufin rose and grasped his arm. With a voice full of emotion the father spoke: 

”Wait! I did not mean everything I said. I am deeply troubled and my temper is growing short. I will not you leave thinking I do not hold you in esteem. Every father hopes that his son would be a picture of him, but it cannot be so. Like Mahtan you look, and like him and my father you have been blessed with a great skill. I try to remember that your ambition is smaller than mine and that your wisdom is younger than mine. But swear to me that whatever happens, you will obey me and stand beside me.” 

Celebrimbor looked at his father, seeing genuine tears in his eyes. So at least part of the speech was not affectation. He wanted to make the oath but feared. He said: 

”I respect you more than anyone else, but do not demand an oath from me. If I swore, I would walk in darkness, bound by own words, for you refuse to give me enough light to guide me. My love and esteem you always will have, but do not ask me to do this! I am no longer a child, I cannot utter rash promises without all the knowledge of their results. Now let us rest and speak of this tomorrow, if you will. Oft morning is wiser than evening, and we are tired and agitated.” 

Curufin released Celebrimbor’s arm, sighing: 

”So be it, then. Good night, my son.”

”Good night, father.” Celebrimbor walked to his chambers, dark thoughts forming in his mind. 

Chapter End Notes

Read and review, please. I know that in Silmarillion it is not stated that Celebrimbor was there when Lúthien was found but nor it is said that he was not. I thought it probable that Curufin would like his son to be with him and would share some of his plans with him, even if only testing his loyalty.

Chapter 3: Revelations

Celebrimbor and Curufin did not talk about any oaths the next day. Instead, Curufin greeted his son as friendly as ever when he saw him. But something had changed: Curufin did not speak with Celebrimbor as much as before and then they conversed mainly of Celebrimbor’s craft and trivial things. Curufin did not even hint of his plans to his son, but Celebrimbor nonetheless saw that something was stressing him. Lúthien was still held in the chamber of Celegorm, and no others than Celegorm and Curufin were allowed to speak with her. Even Celebrimbor was forbidden to enter the rooms when Celegorm opened the door. At first the matter was kept secret.

But after two weeks Celegorm finally made his intentions clear. He publicly sent messengers to Thingol to deliver his proposal to take Lúthien as his wife. Preparations for a wedding feast were begun, and the people of Nargothrond wondered greatly. Celebrimbor did not believe for a moment that Lúthien had consented with free will, but there was nothing he could do without breaking his relations to his father and uncle. With a heavy mind he listened the talk in the feast halls, not answering the questions directed at him.

Only one thing lifted his mood. During these spring weeks many of the sons of the lords of Nargothrond talked to him and tried to befriend him. There were even some hints that some of the councillors would not have been averse seeing him as their son-in-law. He wondered at this change, for he had not had many friends in Nargothrond, being just one of the Noldorin refugees housed in there. But he was delighted nonetheless, when one of his new friends named Ovorluin asked him to teach him the craft of making precious stones.

------

They sat before Celebrimbor’s work-table, using a piece of glass for practice. Celebrimbor adviced:

“Now, slowly, do not strike so hard. It is not a piece of iron and you are not a blacksmith. Carefully, only little taps. Chisel only a small chip at a time.”

Ovorluin tapped the head of the little chisel too hard. The glass broke to pieces, and Celebrimbor frowned.

“Do not be offended but you should remain a bard. No practice can make you a good silversmith or jewel maker. Your hands are better on the lute strings.”

Ovorluin only laughed good-naturedly and rose from the table. He walked to a large chair and sat in it, taking a fine lute in his hands.

“Perhaps you are right. I will not hinder your work any more. Let us talk while I play some lays.”

Ovorluin’s fingers danced on the strings and a song of Valinor started. Celebrimbor took his tools and began to work. With delicate hands and careful taps of his hammer he started to set a gem to a silver necklace. They talked of music for a while. Celebrimbor paused every now and then, bending little silver claws around the jewel. Finally Ovorluin said:

“I enjoy of your company, but I had also another matter in my mind when I asked to visit you. Could you stop your work for a while?”

Celebrimbor looked up, asking:

“Tell me what it is. I help you gladly if I can.”

Ovorluin slowly played a few chords before he spoke:

“Could you deliver a message to your father? My father sent me to say this, but I am of same mind. My family wants Curufin know that we fully support him.”

Celebrimbor was puzzled.

“Support him in what?”

“Are you testing me? In his plans, of course! Orodreth is a good leader, but too indecisive for times like this. Finrod is in the dungeons of Gorthaur and will never return. My father and I think that a strong ruler should reign in Nargothrond. And who could be better than two sons of Fëanor, known for their skill and valour?”

Celebrimbor was alarmed and rose from his seat, trying to calm himself.

“I will tell your message to him. It is perhaps better if I do it now. Farewell for a time!”

Ovorluin bowed a goodbye to him and left. Celebrimbor waited for a few moments and then made his way to Curufin’s door.

------

With a nervous hand Celebrimbor knocked and after his father had opened entered the room without even greeting.

“Father, what are you planning? Ovorluin just came to me and said that he and his family will support you. He even talked of you as the future ruler of Nargothrond. What does this mean?”

Curufin quickly recovered from his surprise and answered calmly:

“I do not know what you are speaking of. If Ovorluin wants to express his good-will towards me, I will accept it. But it is a riddle to me why he has thought that I would want the throne.”

Celebrimbor was now angered.

“Father, for once I want that you speak to me openly. Have I not been always honest to you? I have not deserved lies and secrets, not even from you!”

Curufin shrugged.

“I forgive you your insulting words for I have not always been clear when speaking to you. It is true: My goal is the crown. With Orodreth on throne, the fall of Nargothrond is inevitable.”

“Would you rebel against our host? Is that how you thank him?”

Curufin laid his hand on Celebrimbor’s shoulder, looking him deep in the eyes. Celebrimbor recoiled a little, shocked at the fire in Curufin’s gaze. In his father’s eyes there burned ambition, greed and hatred. Curufin spoke:

“Why are you so cold? If I attain my goal it will benefit you too. Imagine it, you could be the heir for a mighty kingdom. Orodreth is a weakling, but I and Celegorm could make Nargothrond great, so that even Morgoth must fear us! When we have this realm, it is time to bind all the kingdoms of the Noldor together, under our rule. After all, we are of the oldest house of the Noldor.”

Celebrimbor exclaimed:

“Beware, for this is a work of your accursed Oath! Remember the words of Mandos!”

Curufin started to pace up and down the floor, speaking impatiently:

“You cannot understand this matter. You did not participate in the Oath, and it troubles you not. But I, I called everlasting Darkness upon me if I fail to fulfil my vow. What could be better course to reclaim the Silmarils than to forge an alliance of all the Noldor? If we could unite, Morgoth would know no peace in his black mind! Do not try to teach me!”

Celebrimbor was not convinced:

“No, you are wrong. If you usurp the crown you will only sow dissension between the Noldor. Must it again be said that the sons of Fëanor are greedy and treacherous? No others than your brothers would join you, if you steal the crown of Orodreth.”

Curufin waved his hand irritably.

“I should have known this! You always have objections and reservations when you should act. Where is the courage of the House of Fëanor in your blood? I will not speak of this with you again. My plans are ripe and I will execute them, despite of you! You will thank me when you rule with me and your uncle. Now go!”

Celebrimbor turned and walked out, grieved and afraid.

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Celebrimbor could not sleep that evening, but rose and went outside the halls. He walked to a little hill some two miles from Nargothrond. He sat on the grass and looked around. It was midnight, and the moon had risen. There was not a sound, even the wind was still. The silver rays kissed the trees and meadows below him, Narog flowing peacefully southwards.

But the sight could not lift Celebrimbor’s spirits. He leaned his head on his hands and thought hard. What should he do? Should he warn Orodreth? But then, his father was perhaps a traitor but still dear to him. A rash word could drive Curufin to open rebellion or get Orodreth to take some violent action. Celebrimbor could not bear the thought of his father punished. The image of Curufin leading an armed attempt to take the crown was also revolting. Was not one Kinslaying enough? It would only serve to bind the Noldor tighter to their Doom. There were no good choices, for all actions Celebrimbor could take would lead only to bloodshed and grief.

Suddenly raised his head, for a faint rustle came from behind him. He rebuked himself that he had taken only his dagger with him. If there was a spy of Morgoth, a wolf or an Orc, he would have no chance. He rose nimbly and turned around, drawing his dagger. But then he sheathed it again, breathing deeply in relief. He exclaimed:

“Huan! You startled me. But what are you doing here, without Celegorm?”

The hound only stared at him. Celebrimbor gazed around, patting Huan, and saw a figure among the deepest shadows of trees. Stepping closer, he cried:

“Uncle! How come have you come to hunt in this hour?”

The figure turned and Celebrimbor saw that it was not Celegorm. It was Lúthien, again clad in her shadowy cloak. She seemed to be afraid, and tried to leave. But Celebrimbor stepped forwards, gripping her arm. In amazement he said:

“Am I dreaming? Or has my uncle relented and released you?”

She answered:

“Neither, for I escaped with the help of Huan. Do not hinder me, for I must go to save Beren! If you have a noble heart, let me go and wish success to me. But if not, take even pity on me and do not alert your uncle.”

Celebrimbor let her arm.

“So it is as I thought, and you had not accepted his proposal. But hear me, he has sent messages to Doriath, asking your hand from Thingol. Your father must be told the truth!”

“I have not time, for haste is needed. But if you are as good as your words and bearing, send him a message, and you will have my gratitude.”

Celebrimbor looked downwards.

“I will do what I can, but my father will know of it. Perhaps I am a coward, but I have not the courage nor will to stand openly against him.”

He raised his head and went on:

“But do not fear, I will not tell Celegorm or my father of this. Let them discover it for themselves. I am glad you have escaped from their clutches. Go in peace, and may the Valar protect you on the way!”

Lúthien smiled.

“Wise and kind is your heart, Celebrimbor, it seems. But do not be angry if I make sure that you cannot betray me until it is too late for them to chase me.” Celebrimbor was puzzled.

“How would you do that?”

Lúthien stepped a bit farther.

“Like this.”

She cast her enchanted cloak on Celebrimbor’s face, singing softly. The song was like that of nightingales, bright like sunshine, yet dreamlike and soothing. Its words urged Celebrimbor to cast all his worries aside and wander to sleep. Of rest they spoke, and of sweet silence. He tried to fight against the spell, but it was too strong. He fell gently on the fragrant grass in deep slumber.

Chapter End Notes

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