What Brings Us Together by Aipilosse

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Epilogue

The end, perhaps.

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“Are they still arguing about the walls?” Coroniel didn’t look up from her theodolite as she surveyed what would become the reconstructed northern road to Tirion.

“Of course. I think they’ll be arguing about the walls until the next calamity comes that staves in the eastern walls.” Celebrimbor paged through Coroniel’s plans so far. He was pleased that the secondary path still carved through the hill to the center of the city.

“Finrod versus Fingolfin: who would win? I think I’ve played this game before.”

“I think Finrod will win, eventually. In an age or so. He cares more, and he’s right: if Fingolfin’s first defensive tactic is to collapse the walls what’s the point in having them?”

“Why, to collapse them again, naturally.” Coroniel finished her measurements and looked critically at what she had so far. “Is Finrod also on board with your set path transport?”

“I haven’t spoken to him about it.” Celebrimbor shrugged. “All you need to do is make sure there’s smooth paths from the center of the hill — the city foundation will be the hardest part. After that, it’s a simple matter of designing the actual transport and track.”

Coroniel raised an eyebrow. “If you say so.” She began to pack up her equipment. “Are you still planning on going to Haru’s house tomorrow for dinner and games?” Coroniel was staying with her grandparents while she helped with city repairs. Their towering home, built up instead of out like most of the ancient houses in the city, had survived the attack.

“Perhaps.”

“Why are you so cagey?” Coroniel handed off her plans to another engineer in her crew. “I’ll see you next week! Enjoy the show tonight,” she called after him. She finished up small talk and exchanges with the other crew members before picking up her satchel and turning on Celebrimbor. “He’s awake isn’t he?”

“No, and he’s not sleeping, as I’ve mentioned multiple times.”

“He’s laying down in the bedroom — I’m not sure what you consider sleeping, but—“

“I don’t think you can be described as ‘laying down’ when you’re incorporeal,” Celebrimbor interrupted.

“But is he still incorporeal?”

“I’m not certain, but I think he’s waking up.”

“Did you hear what you just said?” Coroniel rolled her eyes, but couldn’t entirely keep a smile away. “Congratulations I suppose? What are you supposed to say to someone whose partner is on the cusp of regenerating a new body?”

“It might be nothing.”

“True. Then you can come to dinner tomorrow to take your mind off of it.” Coroniel and Celebrimbor began making their way towards the eastern side of the city, where both Finrod and her grandparents’ houses were. 

“Is he going to look the same as before?” Coroniel asked.

Celebrimbor laughed. “I really don’t know. He asked for a really astounding range of preferences. I’m not sure why he thought horns were something I might like—“

Coroniel burst out laughing. “I can’t imagine why. Did you really turn down horns?”

“I—“ Celebrimbor felt his face getting hot. “I’m open minded.”

“You have the worst taste in men, you mean.” They arrived at an overlook, where the land dropped down and they could see the shining roofs of the eastern side of the city, and beyond that, the sea. The sky was what arrested their gazes, though. The slim hoop was now about 30 degrees above the horizon and the banded sphere had begun to peak above the ocean. 

“Do they know what it is yet?” Coroniel asked.

“No, but they’ve determined it wasn’t visible in the sky before — neither the facsimile that Varda made nor the original body that could have been visible after the world was rounded.”

“And it’s certainly not Lumbar?”

Celebrimbor shook his head. “No, it’s too close to the sun.”

“Which is definitely not Arien now.”

“Definitely.”

Coroniel looked back west, where typically Eärendil would have been rising, although Mindon Eldaliéva obscured the horizon. “I’m still thinking about going to Valmar.”

“And miss the rebuilding? No, Eärendil has Idril, Elwing, and Elrond all there ready to pounce as soon as the Valar will hear them.”

“It’s just not fair. It was never fair.”

Celebrimbor sighed. “I know. I agree.”

Coroniel shook her head, trying to dislodge thoughts of a friend she had known since childhood perpetually exiled to the sky. “Maybe the Valar’s various petitioners will give you more time once Annatar wakes up.” 

“Maybe. Even after he starts work there was some sort of schedule with breaks proposed.”

“That sounds utterly unlike the Ainur.”

“That’s how Annatar explained,” Celebrimbor said with a shrug. “The ‘schedule’ looked like a crystal to me, and only showed indicators of some sort of pattern beyond the cellular level when Annatar focused on it, so I haven’t been able to examine it.”

“If you’re serious about this, you know mysterious Ainur handing you rocks instead of a calendar is going to be the least strange part of your life.”

Celebrimbor smiled. “Oh, I’m aware. In fact, I’m counting on it.” 

Coroniel shook her head. “I suppose I should hope that I don’t see you tomorrow because I can’t imagine you’ll surface for several days after he wakes.”

“We have been lacking in time alone since he showed up several months ago,” Celebrimbor pointed out.

Coroniel said goodbye, and they headed off towards their respective temporary homes. Celebrimbor kept himself from running through the streets, but barely. He could definitely feel something in the slumbering bond that had been quiet for the past few weeks. He resisted trying to get Annatar’s attention — he didn’t exactly know how re-embodiment worked, although it was one of the many topics he wanted to discuss once Annatar arose, but he didn’t want to distract him at this point and risk Annatar accidentally getting his hands backwards or something along those lines. 

He darted through the main entrance to Finrod’s city house, hoping no one would stop him. He was almost to the back door when someone called his name. 

Celebrimbor half-turned, hoping that would indicate his haste. “Merillë, is there something I can help you with?”

“Is Annatar awake?” Merillë asked eagerly.

“As I have not yet been able to return to the guest-house, I have no idea.”

“Well if he is, will you tell him that I had an idea regarding soul-threads.”

“Right.” Celebrimbor nodded with mock-solemnity. “I’ll see if my husband, who’s been unconscious for several weeks, and who before that time has been imprisoned or incorporeal for even longer, has surfaced, and if so I’ll send him straight to you.”

“I didn’t say send him straight to me!” Merillë protested.

“I’ll tell you what, if I disappear, in three days time you’re allowed to come by, but only if you bring food and wine.”

“Three days? I can’t imagine you’ll need three whole days.”

Celebrimbor raised his eyebrows.

“Fine, fine, I’ll leave you alone!” Merillë said. “For three days,” she called after him as Celebrimbor finally escaped the house.

Free at last, he slipped out the door and headed towards the guest-house where he and Annatar were staying. Merillë meant well, he was sure, but not only did he want Annatar all to himself for a few days, her theories of soul purification would only serve to remind them both that Annatar and he were not free to vanish into the wilderness and ignore the world for the next few centuries. Annatar was being treated with more leniency and mercy than he deserved, as many people were quick to point out to Celebrimbor, but several millennia evil deeds still rested on his shoulders. Many of them he could not ameliorate, but some were still within his power to fix, or at least attempt to. They had only been given the barest information so far, but apparently Annatar could somehow access some of the twisted orc fëar in Mandos, or more correctly, a region adjacent to Mandos. There, he would attempt to undo some of the damage he and Morgoth visited on them in ages past. 

But what their lives would look like once that duty began was a question for the future. For now, Celebrimbor was happy to only anticipate the next day or, at this moment, the next minute. Never had Finrod’s gardens seemed larger. The whimsically winding walkways always annoyed him, but today they were especially irksome. He discarded dignity and decided to hop along the stones in the pond to close the final distance to the guest-house. 

Inside, the main room looked undisturbed. His mattress still laid unrolled on the ground, and a half empty cup of coffee sat on the low table with notebooks and letters spread out around it. He hurried to at least pick up the pile of clothes on the ground — he told himself he only tidied to avoid an argument as soon as Annatar woke up, but the idea that maybe living with Annatar would make him into someone who didn’t throw his clothes on the ground lurked in the back of his mind. 

He put the dishes in a basin to be cleaned and thought about further straightening the room but refrained. Annatar would likely move everything when he woke up anyway. 

Celebrimbor went into the washroom and cleaned off the dust and sweat of the worksite. He undid his hair and made sure the waves were more artful than the even crimps from his braid. He pulled on soft pants and a light slate tunic: casual and comfortable clothing for an evening at home with the added bonus of having made a gardener drop his shears when he smiled at him the other day.

He stared at the closed bedroom door. The room stayed silent. He still thought their bond hummed with a new faint energy but had no concrete evidence. He reminded himself about backwards hands and sat down at the low table, turning through various research projects until he found something that would distract him from his disappointment.

The new planets and strange stars were interesting, but everyone was absorbed in that discovery — he would sort through the piles of research later and find the cracks in all the theories then. He turned instead to his plans for improved transit. 

He decided on spheres as an appropriate carriage, and was in the midst of trying to decide on the material, when he felt a breath of air on his neck.

“The strengthened glass will look very pretty, but what if the occupants want privacy? And won’t they get too hot in this climate?”

“There are substances that will lower the emissivity of the glass. And shields. And we don’t really even know how the climate will end up.”

Annatar rested his chin on Celebrimbor’s shoulder. He smelled the same, a mix of heated metal and organic musk. A lock of hair fell over Celebrimbor’s shoulder. The fine silk glimmered as Celebrimbor twisted it around his finger. He cupped a hand over the hair and peered into the makeshift cave.

“It looks brighter, but it’s just some additional reflective properties, it still doesn’t actually glow. While I think you’d find luminescent hair appealing, I think the annoyance it would cause when trying to investigate something that requires darkness makes it untenable.” Annatar reached over Celebrimbor’s shoulder to pull forward a rough diagram of the new planetary arrangement. “Are there still so many unknowns?”

Celebrimbor captured his hand, running his thumb along the knuckles before turning it so their fingers intertwined. “Your hands look normal. Maybe a little larger?” Celebrimbor twisted to look at Annatar, who thwarted the discovery by fitting his torso against Celebrimbor’s body. 

Annatar slid a hand across his stomach pressing their bodies tightly together. “Everything is to your specifications.”

“I don’t remember specifying all that much. I may have even said something as ill-advised as ‘I’ll love you in any body you’re in.’”

“You did. Very foolish. What if I don’t have a face? Only a leering skull?”

Celebrimbor leaned his head back until he rested against a very non-skeletal nose. “I’m sure we’d manage.” He relaxed further back. “You sound the same.”

Annatar’s lips pressed against his neck. “Surprising, considering the modifications.”

“I want to see.” Celebrimbor struggled against the iron grip again.

“But what if I just want to hold you?” Annatar’s voice held an edge of laughter.

“Annatar—“ 

“Fine.” Annatar’s hand dropped and the pressure against his back vanished. Celebrimbor spun. Annatar sat cross legged a few feet away. The golden hair twisted over his shoulders to brush the ground. The fine lines of his face were familiar as was the shape of his body and the curve of his smile. Annatar’s eyes seemed different, though — still gold, but shot through with prismatic light like green threads through brown to create hazel. 

Celebrimbor narrowed his eyes. “Stand up.” 

Annatar raised an eyebrow at the order but stood in one smooth motion. “Should I spin in a circle?”

Celebrimbor motioned at him. “Please.”

With a disbelieving laugh, Annatar slowly turned, allowing Celebrimbor to admire every inch of his bare skin. “So?” he asked after completing the circle.

“You’ve made yourself taller,” Celebrimbor accused. 

“Do you object?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Celebrimbor also stood up. He now could look straight into Annatar’s eyes when before he would have had to look slightly down. 

“I can shrink if you really want me to.” Annatar stepped into him and draped his arms over Celebrimbor’s shoulders. 

“I think we can make this work.” Celebrimbor leaned forward and captured Annatar’s lips in a kiss. His lips parted letting Celebrimbor into the welcome warmth of his mouth as his arms tightened behind him. The way he smelled, the way he tasted, the way his hand caught in Celebrimbor’s hair was all familiar, but there was also a newness to the kiss — a reminder that he had never kissed this exact pair of lips, pressed their hips together at this exact angle, fit their bodies together in this exact way. A whole new array of firsts lay before them, a prospect as exciting to explore as the strange new world Aman had been pulled into.

Celebrimbor could feel a happy hum from Annatar, a tingle against his nerves as his fëa seemed to expand with joy. It was almost like a purr on a spiritual level. Teeth nipped at his lip and a hand sharply tugged at his hair as Annatar signaled his objection to the comparison before sliding his hand under Celebrimbor’s tunic to smooth his hands over his waist and back. Even breaking apart for a moment felt unbearable, so their lips remained locked together as Annatar ruched up Celebrimbor’s tunic to expose more skin. 

Finally Annatar wrenched his head away. “Off. Now.” He roughly pulled the tunic over Celebrimbor’s head and wrenched down his pants. Celebrimbor clutched Annatar’s shoulders as he stumbled out of his clothing, laughing at the graceless urgency they’d been reduced to.

Annatar looked around. “Where have you been sleeping?”

“There.” Celebrimbor nodded at the mattress and then used his proximity to Annatar’s neck to begin laying biting kisses along his trapezius. 

“On the ground?” Annatar asked. 

Celebrimbor lifted his head and bit Annatar’s earlobe. “Yes, you had taken the bedroom after all. It’s quite comfortable, and traditional—"

“It will do,” Annatar said and lifted Celebrimbor a few inches off the ground as he backed towards the mattress. Celebrimbor half fell on the bed, Annatar dropping next to him and covering his body with his own to seize his mouth again. Celebrimbor wrapped his legs around Annatar’s waist to press their skin together. He forced himself to slow, to savor every moment of this almost-first time. Celebrimbor broke the kiss to rest his head against the mattress. Annatar lifted himself so that he could survey him. They remained like that for a moment, legs tangled together, drinking in the other’s eager face. 

“I can see you,” Celebrimbor said. It was more than marveling at Annatar’s fana after his brief period of disembodiment and the previous state of decay. It was more than their unclothed state, all trappings of time and place discarded so that they could enter the timeless world of two lovers in bed. It was seeing the truth in Annatar’s face, feeling his soul against his own, unveiled and open as never before, knowing the horror and beauty. 

“Celebrimbor.” Annatar cupped his face, wonder reflected between them. “I would give you everything. All that I am, or could make, or could become.”

It was a heavy thing to have Annatar’s heart with all its circuitous logic, its capability for cruelty and burning desire, but Celebrimbor would have accepted it if it were ten times the weight. 

“Let me hold you,” Celebrimbor said, his hands already wrapped around Annatar, his heart open, accepting the offered love. Annatar's unwavering gaze drank in his face, his hair, his eyes and then sank deeper to layers of bone and muscle, soft organs and the twisting paths of nerves and veins and lymphatic vessels, and then deeper still to his soul, the same piece of himself that they had bound together ages ago. 

Celebrimbor could not hold back any longer and surged up to kiss Annatar again, tumbling him over so that he sat on top, able to arrange things to his liking and begin the slow motions of intimacy. Annatar moaned in response, and they both relished the vibrations of sound in the air, able to hear and see and feel and smell each other all wrapped in the vibrant pulse of their bond.

Later, with the new yellow and white light that now bathed Aman at night shining through the gaps in the curtain, Celebrimbor lay with his head resting on Annatar’s chest, listening to a steady heartbeat. The thrum of blood through the veins and the rise and fall of breath comforted him even though these signs of life were not a necessity as they would be for one of the Eldar. Annatar combed his fingers through Celebrimbor’s hair, pausing occasionally to twist the strands around his fingers and examine the silvery-black color in the strange light.

Celebrimbor joined the stream of his imagination as it wound through newly carved rivers between mountains unclimbed all bathed in the light of the new moons and a sky half-familiar and half-strange, new and old constellations dancing together in heavens that were brighter than before.

Celebrimbor pressed a kiss against the center of Annatar’s chest before answering his unvoiced question. “Some are saying that the fainter stars are a sign that even here, we will begin to fade and decay. Others scoff and say that is the beginning of a new golden age — the Years of the Trees come again.”

“Decay. That’s interesting. I had wondered… Change was never arrested completely, even here. There’s an end to everything.”

“The end of the Song? What do you know of that?”

“Only that there is an end.” Annatar continued stroking his hair with even movements.

“Hm.” Celebrimbor propped his head up so that he could see Annatar’s face. The abstract idea of the end of everything could not shake his serenity, and from the soft curve of Annatar’s smile it wasn’t enough for him either.

“And the end, is it just that then? The light dies, and all is cold and still and empty?”

“I don’t know. There’s always the theory of the Second Music.”

Celebrimbor laid his head back down with a huff. “That always sounded like a fantasy to me. To know everything in its totality and for all to fall perfectly into place — I see no evidence for it and a dangerous philosophical appeal.”

“The Dagor Dagorath is impossible for several reasons, but it does serve as a nice explanation for where the souls of the Edain go and their ultimate purpose.” 

“But the Second Music is possible?”

“I think it’s entirely possible that there should be another Song,” Annatar replied. “But it would not be the Second Music. It would be the nth music, another variation in the components of Eä.”

“Meaning there was another Music before this one?”

“Yes, potentially infinite.”

Celebrimbor propped himself up again, pensively tracing Annatar’s collar bones. “I’m not sure if it’s reassuring to imagine it all beginning again, or if an endless loop of time should be terrifying.”

“Are we trapped, doomed to fall into a pattern set long before?” Annatar said slowly. “Or would each new Song be a chance for every choice to go another way?”

“The latter I hope. ” Celebrimbor smiled down at a face made just for him.  “We have both been reborn in a way already, and I think we are still far from the end. Yet I will gladly walk with you until we reach the end of all things, whether or not the fragments of us are swept up and bound together into a new Song or not.”

Annatar looked up at him, some measure of awe still in his face. “And I will walk with you, through whatever shall come to pass, until the very end.”

Celebrimbor half rolled off Annatar, although his head still rested on his arm, and let their minds spin together, dreaming of a world unanticipated, but no less joyful. 

 

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Chapter End Notes

Haru - Qenya, Grandfather

Lumbar - Quenya, Name of a star (or planet), tentatively identified with Saturn

Mindon Eldaliéva - 'Tower of the Eldar,' the tallest tower in Tirion

fëa - Quenya, Spirit

fana - Quenya, Raiment, veil, physical form of a Maia