Maeglin's Choice by chrissystriped

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Chapter Eleven

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Maeglin hesitated to step into the forge when he noticed that it wasn’t empty. He was surprised to find anyone here. They had made known that any smith would be welcome to use their anvils -- the other groups of refugees had had to flee so suddenly that they hadn’t been able to transport heavy equipment –- but it was late at night.

The elf didn’t seem to have noticed him and Maeglin felt the overwhelming urge to slink away, but then elf turned around and saw him.

“Hello”, Maeglin said uncertainly. “I... I didn’t want to disturb you.”

The elf smiled at him. “You aren’t. And this is your forge, after all. I’m glad to be able to work in a real forge again –- and among Noldor, the Sindar don’t like me that much.”

Maeglin thought he saw something like regret on the elf’s face.

“Come in.”

The elf invited him with a motion of his head to come closer and Maeglin realised that he was still standing on the doorstep.

“Forgive my bad manners. I’m Maeglin of Gondolin”, he said, trying not to blush.

“King Turgon’s nephew?” The elf scrutinized him with interest in his eyes and Maeglin nodded. “Then we are related. I’m Celebrimbor, son of Curufin Feanorion.”

“Oh!”

Maeglin knew that Turgon had talked to Celebrimbor in private,  but he hadn’t met him yet. He understood now why he'd said the Sindar didn’t like him –- what his family had done in Doriath...

“I’m pleased to meet you, Prince Maeglin.” Celebrimbor bowed slightly. “And I beg you not to judge me by the deeds of my father.”

“If you’ll do me the same courtesy”, Maeglin blurted out and blushed at Celebrimbor’s uncomprehending gaze. He didn’t know, Maeglin tended to forget that it wasn’t common knowledge outside of Gondolin. “Eol was... I’m sure you’ll hear it from someone else”, he mumbled and Celebrimbor didn’t ask.

“So you are a smith, too?”, he said instead and Maeglin nodded.

“And a miner, I learned from the Khazâd.”

Celebrimbor’s face lit up. “You visited the Khazâd? I’ve been to Belegost a few times and wish I could have stayed longer, they are so interesting! You have to allow me to invite you to a drink. I haven’t met anyone else who was allowed into their halls.”

Maeglin felt a little overwhelmed by Celebrimbor’s enthusiasm, but he nodded.

“Why not?” He thought of the words Rog had said to him when they’d still been in Gondolin. You had to allow friendship, if you wanted it to happen. “Right now?” He smiled hesitantly at Celebrimbor who grinned back.

“With pleasure. I know for a fact that Ninque’s newest brew turned out splendidly. Have you settled in?”, Celebrimbor asked as they left the forge.

“We are getting there”, answered Maeglin. There were  lot of things to consider.

“To be honest, I’m surprised to find you on the mainland. You are the nephew of the High King after all.” And Turgon had moved to the island, where Círdan had offered him lodgings in his palace.

“Most of the Lords are staying with their people, and the princess with her husband is doing likewise. I know that my uncle has plans to discuss with Círdan and Gil-galad, so it was more convenient for him to accept Círdan’s offer.” He didn’t want to say too much before anything was decided. “And...”

Once he’d dreamed of becoming Turgon’s heir – but that had been before he’d realised that actually succeeding him would mean Turgon’s death. And he’d quickly found out that he didn’t like to be exposed to the public. He wasn’t a leader. Maybe he’d only wanted to be because it meant not being subjected to the mercy of someone else.

“And I feel more comfortable here. The sea is... scary.” And Rog was here, too, they were deciding so much together that their houses already started to mingle. “You are here, too, aren’t you?”, he said when Celebrimbor opened the door to the little pub.

Celebrimbor smiled wryly. “But I’m Curufin’s son and no one really knows what to do with me. The Nargothrondrim see me as one of their own, but there aren’t that many of them left...” A shadow crossed his face. “Let’s talk about something else.”

They ordered beer and Celebrimbor asked: “How did you meet the Khazâd?”

Maeglin accepted the change of topic. He understood why Celebrimbor didn’t want to talk about Nargothrond.

“My father traded with them”, he answered. “And he often visited their halls. He got along better with them than his own people. When I was old enough, he took me along sometimes. I learned a lot there.”

Maeglin could feel that Celebrimbor was curious about his father but he didn’t pry and he was grateful for that. Instead they talked about the culture of the Khazâd and Maeglin was surprised how much Celebrimbor knew about them. He’d never met another elf before, who felt so drawn to them. Most elves looked down on the Khazâd.

 

“Do you have a lamp? It’s already dark outside. If not I can accompany you home.” Celebrimbor lifted his crystal lamp.

Maeglin opened his mouth to tell him that his night vision was perfectly good, but then he swallowed it down. Celebrimbor only wanted to be helpful. They’d talked all evening about the Khazâd and forging techniques and he had found that it was easy for him to talk with Celebrimbor. He liked him, he didn’t want to push him away.

“If you don’t mind?”, he said instead.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while. It was truly late, they met barely anyone still about. Maeglin eyed Celebrimbor’s lamp. He’d have loved to find out how they were made. His mother had had one –- one of the few things from her old life Eol had allowed her to keep –- and Maeglin had been fascinated by the glowing stone inside it for as long as he could remember. He’d always imagined the Silmarils to look like that. In Gondolin he’d known no one who knew how to make the lamps well enough to dare to ask and he didn’t learn well from books, the explanations didn’t help him.

“Your grandfather invented those, didn’t he?”

“Yes...” Celebrimbor sounded wary, as if he wasn’t sure if he liked where this remark would lead to.

“I only wanted to know, if you could show me, how to make them!”, Maeglin hurried to add, too worried that Celebrimbor might think he was judging him to be scared of how his question might be received.

“Oh.” Celebrimbor looked surprised at him then he found his smile again. “Of course I can.”

He had a beautiful smile, Maeglin thought.