Strength by Independence1776

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Strength

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Nerdanel paused outside of the small shop and peered in the window. A scattering of trinkets lay on a plain flax table runner placed top of a bench. She’d heard the gossip about Celebrían and wished to speak to the woman herself-- not the least because she was a fellow artist. While her style was strange, almost fey, compared to the staidness of much current Valinoran art, it spoke of the wilds of Middle-earth, a land Nerdanel occasionally wished she could visit.

She pushed open the door and a wooden bell clanked. Celebrían, wearing trousers-- another reason for the gossip-- and her hair bound sensibly in a bun, bustled out of her studio in the other half of the ground floor and smiled. “How may I help you?”

Nerdanel smiled. “I wished to talk, tradeswoman to tradeswoman. I’m Nerdanel Istarnië.”

Celebrían’s eyes widened. “If you’re willing to wait until the noon bell chimes, I’ll provide lunch for you.”

Nerdanel smiled. “If it’s not trouble--”

“It isn’t. I know you have questions.” Nerdanel heard the unspoken, “Everyone has questions.” “Please, feel free to look around the shop.”

Celebrían disappeared into her workshop and Nerdanel turned to look at the products on display. There was a variety of bowls, small statues, a few toys, and furniture-- some plain, some with decorative carving on the edges, and some with decorative inlay. Nerdanel stopped by an end table with a hunting scene inlaid and ran her fingers over the different shades of wood. She moved on and eventually ended up at the small counter, looking at the wooden pendents, necklaces, and brooches. She tapped the glass as the noon bell two squares over chimed.

Celebrían came out of her workshop with a smile. “Did you see anything you liked?”

Nerdanel nodded. “For today, I’ll stick to something small. But I’d like to order a table as well.”

Celebrían’s eyes lit. “Lunch first, business later?”

Nerdanel nodded and Celebrían locked the shop door, unlocked the door behind the counter, and started up the stairs to the apartment above the shop. Nerdanel followed. The stairs ended in the living room, which was open to the kitchen and dining room, creating a large space filled with light. Two opens doors off to the left led to a bedroom and a bathroom, with a closed door likely leading to another bedroom. The sparse furniture looked similar in style to the ones downstairs, and there were no decorations on the walls save for the blue-trimmed white curtains on the windows. “Do you like living here?”

Celebrían shrugged. “I only plan on staying here until my family sails. I know Elrond will come, but my children…” Her voice faded as she stuck her head in a cabinet. “I know they’ll make the right choices for themselves, despite my being here and thus unable to counsel them.” Her voice grew stronger when she pulled her head out of the cabinet, holding a sealed container of pickles. “I can’t offer you anything fancy--”

“I wouldn’t expect it, not with you working and my giving no notice that I was coming.”

When Celebrían began slicing a loaf of bread, Nerdanel cleared the mail off the table and put it in a pile on the low cabinet underneath the windows and caught a letter from Elwing as it started to slide off. Nerdanel made sure it stayed put and went into the kitchen. “Is there anything else I can help with?”

Celebrían shook her head. “You’re a guest. Please, sit.”

Nerdanel did and Celebrían swiftly came out with two plates of sandwiches, each with a pickle on the side. Nerdanel asked, “How are you finding the Undying Lands?”

Celebrían tilted her head. “Peaceful. I feel safe here as I no longer could in Middle-earth. But I didn’t expect that so many would still find a female woodworker gossip-worthy.”

Nerdanel sighed. “That may have more to do with your class than anything else. Galadriel… No one is surprised her daughter is just as strong-headed. But refusing to live with your relatives and to set up a shop instead? It was a shock.”

“I need the space to define myself. It’s one thing to heal well enough; it’s another to end up living in someone’s house with their expectations.”

“Why here, specifically?”

Celebrían shrugged. “It’s the right size.” A small smile appeared on her face. “And I liked the statue in the courtyard.”

Nerdanel grinned. “I carved it. I’m glad you like it. Back when it was installed…”

Celebrían raised her eyebrows. “Was a girl reading a book that controversial?”

“You’ve seen the majority of the sculptures in the other old squares. What do you think?”

Celebrían put down her mug of tea. “Did people resent the Exiles’ return that much?”

Nerdanel sighed. “Yes and no. It was a complicated time. The Teleri… as a group, they were more hardhearted toward the Noldor--”

“And for good reason. How did-- do-- they treat you?”

“Time heals. So does the dead returning.” Which was a non-answer, but to give a full one would take far longer than a simple meal to cover.

They ate in silence for a couple of minutes before Celebrían said, “Elrond had little bad to say about being raised by Maglor and Maedhros.” Nerdanel met Celebrían’s eyes. “I know you wanted to talk to me about my work, but I know you also wish for more information about your sons.”

Nerdanel nodded. “I would not expect--”

“Nerdanel, Elrond has no memories of Eärendil save a few glimpses during the War of Wrath. He has only a few of Elwing. He considers Maglor to be his father and Maedhros his uncle.” She smiled. “That has made for some interesting family discussions, given both Mother’s and Father’s histories. But--”

“Elrond has never denied they’re Kinslayers, has he?”

“He has not and will not. Loyalty and love don’t mean a blindness to faults, mistakes, and things that should not have happened but did. You know that as well as anyone.”

“More than most, I think.” She sighed. “Fëanor was ever swift to assume betrayal and disloyalty. I loved the man-- I still do, in a way-- but he was impossible to deal with. I left him for my own sake, before I grew to hate him. Maybe, if things had been different, we could have worked things out. But… we never had the time.”

Celebrían rested a hand on hers. “You did what you could for yourself, even though it hurt your family. I had to do the same.”

“You’ll see your family again, though. Fëanor and our sons will never leave Mandos and Maglor remains exiled.”

“I don’t believe I will see all of them again. My heart warns me against it. But Maglor’s exile may be lifted yet.”

“It is rather unlikely.” Nerdanel sighed. “Does Elwing--”

“She knows what I’ve told you. We’ve found common ground talking about Elrond and my parents’ memories of Doriath. She says she’ll visit Tol Eressëa soon and we’ll meet then.”

“I’m glad to hear it. We don’t converse much, but I at least enjoyed our conversations once we got past the awkwardness.” She drained her mug. “I think that’s enough about heavier matters for now.” Celebrían nodded. “How did you come to learn woodworking?”

Celebrían shrugged. “As a child. It was a hobby, then. As the years passed, my skills grew more needed. So many Elves died in the Last Alliance… Now, it’s something I can live on while I find a place here.” She half-smiled. “Not that doing this makes it easier. But I truly can’t sit idle and let someone else decide what I’ve recovered enough to do, even if it’s well-meant. Running Imladris with Elrond-- I know what I’m capable of. Now I have to prove it all over again. Despite knowing many people here, there are many more who don’t know me and will be more inclined to listen to the gossip than find out the truth for themselves.”

Nerdanel placed a hand on hers. “My custom will help. My friendship, too, if you will have it.”

Celebrían smiled. “I do wish for it. Thank you.”

Nerdanel stood and picked up her empty plate. “You made lunch. I’ll help you clean up. And then we can talk business.”

Celebrían smiled and stood as well. “That sounds perfect.”