Jealous Kiss by ohboromir

Annatar was settling in well with the Gwaith-i-Mírdain. Too well, in Celebrimbor's opinion.

It is not Celebrimbor’s right to be jealous.

Annatar was not his. There was nothing between them, though Celebrimbor had long wished there was. But Annatar had never shown him anything but earnest friendship, and their work was so entwined, they spent so many working hours in each other’s company: he was loath to spoil the fruits of their labours with an ill-fated dalliance.

But when he watched Annatar now, he could not deny the burning jealousy in his heart. It was wrong. These elves and dwarves were his friends, his fellow smiths and scientists, and it should bring him nothing but joy to see Annatar settle in with them. Settle in - oh, he certainly settled now, draped like a shawl over a dwarven jewelsmith, lips pink with wine, and laughing as he has never laughed with Celebrimbor. His hand tightened on his glass.

His mind wandered, as it so often did. Only he did not dream of great works and wondrous cities tonight. Instead, he imagined Annatar. Annatar, with his deep, sparkling eyes set on their dwarven friend’s face, shining with the adoration that Celebrimbor never saw. Annatar, with his feline grace, taking the dwarf by hand and leading him away to some private corner. Annatar’s long, clever fingers wound in the curls of the dwarf’s beard. Annatar, shrugging off his silvery robe and -

The glass in his hand shattered. The room fell silent, a dozen faces turned to him, startled and curious. Celebrimbor coughed.

“A moment.” Annatar pressed his finger to the dwarf’s lips for a second, then picked himself off the dwarf’s lap, coming to help gather up the glass. The dwarf reached out and patted his backside as he stood, making Annatar laugh again. Celebrimbor could bear it no longer.

He dropped the gathered pieces of glass in his hand, and pulled Annatar into a sharp and sudden kiss, causing the room to erupt into a rowdy cheer.

Annatar pulled away, and his perfect face was flushed. He smiled - a secret, knowing smile that was only Celebrimbor.

“I think you’ve had quite enough to drink, Lord Celebrimbor. Let me help you to bed.”

Leave a Comment