A Sense of History: Straight Road
The next in a series of articles about ships passing to and from the West, Simon uses "The Fall of Númenor" to attempt to arrive at Tolkien's reading of the exordium to "Beowulf."
A/N: This was supposed to be a quick little one-shot. So much for that idea. I had Celebrimbor use Quenya names in the oath because those are the original form of his names.
Celebrimbor followed along behind Elwing as darkness fell over the Havens of Sirion. He didn't feel very safe now that Gil-galad and the others were out of sight, even with Nardil, the guard Gil-galad had assigned him. The people here had too many reasons to hate him, and he couldn't guarantee someone wouldn't try to settle old scores related to something or other Curufin had done in the fall of Doriath that he'd never even heard of. And if the Gondolindrim had less reason to hate him, they had none to love him either.
"Where are we going?" he asked again.
"Enerdhil's house," said Pengolodh. "He's the senior Smith here, so you'll have something in common."
"Enerdhil… was he one of Turgon's jewelsmiths?"
"Ah, you've heard of him."
"Yes, my father always spoke well of his work."
"A word to the wise," said Pengolodh. "Don't mention your father around here."
"That will be a little difficult when my kin's misdeeds are the reason I've been ever-so-cordially requested and required to relocate here!"
Elwing stopped. "Celebrimbor. Your kin directly made half the people here refugees, killed my kin, and are now threatening to kill everyone here. Your lineage is stamped on your face and you've only got one guard with you, so for the Valar's sake use the brain you were born with and keep your mouth shut!" She started walking again and they followed in silence through the streets for the next few minutes.
"Ah, we're nearly there," said Pengolodh in a determinedly-pleasant voice.
Pengolodh knocked on the door, which was opened in a minute or so by a rather tired-looking Noldo with the light of Aman in his eyes. "Pengolodh, good to- Lady Elwing! Do come in. What brings you here… Curufin?!"
"No, I'm Celebrimbor."
"Oh," said Enerdhil.
"It's a long story," said Elwing, "but he's helping us, and they need a place to stay." She gestured at the two Balar Noldor.
"Yes, right. You're welcome to stay here for now." They all trooped in.
Enerdhil closed the door behind them and turned to Elwing. "What is going on? Do people know he's helping you, or am I going to have a mob on my doorstep tomorrow?"
"He's helping all of us because he's going to be fulfilling Feanor's oath by holding the Silmaril, here, for us, so those murderers don't try to kill us all. I'll be handing it to him to guard in public tomorrow morning."
"Who cooked that one up?" demanded Enerdhil.
"Lord Cirdan. Gil-galad's loaning Celebrimbor to us, but if anything happens to him we're all in trouble."
"Probably with Maedhros too, I should imagine. Are you still speaking to the rest of your family?"
"Not since…" Celebrimbor eyed Elwing uneasily.
"Ah." said Enerdhil.
"I understand you gained some new followers shortly after that," said Elwing, crossing her arms.
"A lot of people didn't agree with the brothers' actions, but still felt bound to the House of Feanor. They saw me as the non-crazy Feanorian. Gil-galad didn't want them running around loose, so I took them on."
"Is Maedhros mad?" asked Elwing.
"I don't know."
Shortly after, Elwing and Pengolodh excused themselves, leaving Celebrimbor and Nardil alone with Enerdhil.
The next morning dawned bright and fair, and a crier came down the street announcing a public meeting about a solution to the Feanorian problem. Soon after, Celebrimbor, Nardil, Enerdhil, Enerdhil's daughter Mirwen and apprentice Mirtir all trooped down the street to the square, with Celebrimbor wrapped in a nondescript old cloak of Enerdhil's. The hem was a bit short, but it was better than someone recognising the star on his own.
The square was half full of people already. Elwing spotted Nardil's blue-and-whites and gestured them over to stand nearby. They did, and people frowned and muttered at their presence. Finally, Elwing raised her hand for silence, little gleams escaping her cloak that sent a thrill of near-forgotten wonder down Celebrimbor's spine.
"As you know, last night I and others among you took council with Lord Cirdan and the Noldor High King as to how to respond to Maedhros' demand for the Silmaril. After much discussion, an intriguing idea was proposed which has the potential to keep Maedhros away from us while allowing us to keep our Silmaril here, where it belongs."
"You see, not all of those descended from Feanor are kinslayers," she waited for the murmurs to subside. "Celebrimbor son of Curufin renounced his father's deeds and separated from his family before the Feanorians ever came to Doriath, and he was a small child during the First Kinslaying and the swearing of the Oath."
"But what about Finrod?" someone demanded. "And didn't he abandon Orodreth at Tumhalad?"
Not that again, thought Celebrimbor. If I were anyone else the questions would never be asked, let alone again and again! What do I have to do to get people to trust me?
"I doubt Gil-galad would tolerate having him in direct fealty if that were the case. But more importantly, he has agreed to live with us here in Sirion. With him the nominal keeper of the Silmaril, even the Feanoriannath will have no reason to attack us."
Chaos broke loose and it took some for things to calm down enough for people to speak one at a time. Then someone recognised Celebrimbor, and things got complicated again. Nardil pushed himself in between the hysterical woman yanking at Celebrimbor's cloak and held her as gently as he could manage away from his charge. Celebrimbor could have defended himself, but figured that would likely make things worse.
Oropher finally yanked the woman away by one arm. "Would all you fools STOP and THINK for a moment?" he demanded at a yell. "This elf's presence," he gestured with his free hand at Celebrimbor, "will let us outmaneouver the Feanorians. But only as long as he stays alive. You hurt or kill him and you don't just have Maedhros trying to kill you, you have Gil-galad as well."
"While Morgoth sits back and laughs," added Pengolodh.
"You don't have to marry him, you don't even have to talk to him. You just have to tolerate that he's here. If I can do it to save all our skins, why can't you?" He let go of the woman, who stepped away, massaging her arm silently. She turned and walked away.
After Oropher's startling endorsement, the crowd quieted. After some quiet discussion, Elwing demanded that Celebrimbor swear an oath to her. But not by Eru and the outer darkness, please!
"I should think that being known as Oathbreaker on this would be quite fatal enough without invoking anything of the kind." said Celebrimbor.
Celebrimbor went down on his knees. "I swear to keep the Silmaril within the bounds of the Havens of Sirion so long as I am its keeper and the Havens stand against Morgoth; to stay within the bounds of the Havens of Sirion; and to do no harm to any living here. I shall do these things until the lady Elwing release me or death take me. So say I, Telperinquar son of Curufinwe of the House of Feanaro."
Elwing drew out the Silmaril and Nauglamir from beneath her cloak. Celebrimbor's eyes went wide and his hands shook slightly as he took it from Elwing. The great jewel was slightly warm and it seems to sing with light within his mind, driving away the shadows of grief and long frustration with sheer awe. For the first time, he thought he might really begin to understand what drove his grandfather. The Silmaril was more alive than some people he'd met.
Nardil poked him. "Look away and for goodness sake stand up," he hissed.
Hastily, Celebrimbor did as instructed, still holding the Silmaril in one hand. He wasn't sure what to do with it; putting it on seemed presumptuous and sticking it in his belt pouch too cavalier. He put it on. He didn't want the Nauglamir to get scratched by the odds and ends in his pouch.
The next few days were much less eventful, and Celebrimbor found himself settling into a routine as Silmaril-keeper and colleague of Enerdhil. The Silmaril ended up spending a fair amount of time in the workshop being gone over with jeweller's loupe and assorted other instruments. After all, it wasn't every day either of them had the opportunity to play with a priceless magical artifact and work of art.