Chapter Text
Epilogue
Finally freed from the shackles of mental torture, the prince surveyed his surroundings.
The source of the familiar peppermint aroma became clear: tea and cookies awaited on a steel table. Elaborate statues of his kin adorned the chamber, their intricate details catching the moonlight while the rich melody of a Noldo harp permeated the walls, weaving an atmosphere of eerie nostalgia.
A sad caricature of his fondest memories in Aman.
"I crafted all this for your joy, precious," Annatar declared, his voice laced with sweetness.
"This is a mockery, an illusion, a deception, just like you," Celebrimbor retorted, his disdain tangible.
Annatar seethed with frustration.
He had endowed Celebrimbor many privileges: some autonomy within the tower, respite from the chains, access to sunlight, samples of his native Elvish food... He had even refrained from marring the elf's face during torture sessions, for he treasured it enormously. Yet, despite his efforts, the elf invariably met these gestures with scorn. Annatar had exercised patience, but the elf's persistent rejection was beginning to wear on him.
Celebrimbor glanced at the trinkets and luxuries Annatar had surrounded him with, a grotesque spectacle he eagerly wished to end.
His thoughts returned to the days of Eregion when Annatar masqueraded as a benevolent mentor. Everything seemed immaculate until the mask began to slip, revealing his true nature.
The lies cut deeper than any physical wound, and each of Annatar's attempts to please him resonated as manipulation and only deepened his repulse.
Celebrimbor mused quietly to himself "I admired you, even loved you—"
"And yet you betrayed me!" Annatar thundered, striking the steel table with such fury that the entire chamber shuddered, shaking the very foundations of the tower.
Such betrayal from the one he believed he understood completely hurt Annatar's pride and disrupted his plans.
Celebrimbor met Annatar's accusation with a stony gaze, unmoved by the eruption of his anger.
Inhaling deeply, he attempted to steady himself amidst the ruins surrounding them. The chamber, now destroyed, mirrored the desolation within him.
As silence settled, he felt the remnants of Annatar’s rage lingering in the air, mingling with the smoke and dust. He wondered how much longer he would have to endure this misery.
Annatar acknowledged his outburst belatedly, displeased that the elf had witnessed him in such a manner—passional and desperate. Such exhibitions were beneath his dignity. Nevertheless, Celebrimbor consistently unsettled him with his ingratitude and lack of cooperation.
"We are more alike than you realize." Annatar swiftly regained his composure, and continued with resolve, "I offer you the greatness you have long sought."
"I know what you are," Celebrimbor replied, rejecting any notion of likeness between them. "Your promises are hollow, your gifts are banes."
"Celebrimbor, together we are unmatched." Annatar insisted. "With our superior abilities, we can reshape this Middle-earth. Yet you refuse to see the potential of such alliance,"
"Potential for what?" Celebrimbor retorted, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "More deception?"
"You are much too young," Drawing closer, Annatar's tone intensified, "You yet mistake ambition for deception."
"The darkness you embrace is not for me. I refuse to be a pawn to your ambitions once more."
"... You yet mistake foresight for control," Annatar declared with conviction, "In due time, you will come to accept your fate. You are bound to me, for eternity, Tyelperinquar."
"Bound, perhaps in chains, but never in spirit." Celebrimbor countered.
With a soft chuckle, Annatar gracefully withdrew from the chamber, leaving Celebrimbor alone in the darkness. Outside, the night air whispered through the windows, carrying an ominous foreboding.
Annatar's words consistently reminded him that their destinies were intertwined, despite Celebrimbor's desires.
He acknowledged Annatar's influence over him, yet he remained certain that he would never succumb to manipulation.
His spirit would endure unbroken until the end of his days and beyond. This inner peace was the one thing that Annatar could never shatter.
"Do your worst, Sauron," Celebrimbor whispered to the empty chamber. "My light shall never fade."