Chapter Text
Never before had it taken so long for an Elf to be healed enough to let out of Mandos to be reembodied. Námo was beginning to despair, seeing one after the other of the sons of Fëanor leave his Halls, even cold Curufin who was the last of the brothers out. His son, however… Námo could not fathom why Celebrimbor refused healing, refused pardon, refused to talk to his kin. He didn’t even have too much weighing his conscience, mainly it was his naïve belief in the good in people that caused his and Eregion’s fall. This was hardly something warranting punishment.
As long as Celebrimbor refused to acknowledge he hadn’t been at fault, there was no healing for him, and Námo was unwilling to let him out into the world unhealed. But as Age followed Age, and Celebrimbor was still drifting around the Halls like a shadow, Námo came to a decision. He would let him out, only halfway healed, but not in Aman. He would send him to Ennor. It might be a mistake, but after discussing it with his brother Irmo, he concluded it might well be the only way to restore the silversmith to his former ebullient self.
Even after being reembodied, Celebrimbor suffered ailments that stemmed from his torture at Sauron’s hands. He had bouts of a terrible migraine that incapacitated him from time to time, he slept very little and what sleep he got was disturbed by aching joints and muscles that no amount of healing could cure.
Ennor, in this Age, was nothing like it had been in earlier Ages. The Keeper of the Waiting Halls tried to explain the new Age to the silversmith, but there was nothing that could have prepared him for Stockholm in a heat wave. He was dropped off by the Doomsman of the Valar at the Vaxholm fortress with a ticket for the ferry that took him to the centre of Stockholm.
Celebrimbor got off the ferry and stood on the quay looking at the place he’d ended up. It was teeming with people, and he quickly realised he would have to move out of the way, as he was jostled back and forth by busy locals and stressed-out tourists. It was overwhelming to say the least, and he felt the first warning stabs of a headache that could quickly develop into a crippling migraine. He had to get away quickly, from the heat, the sun and the masses of people. He stumbled and cried out as pain lanced through his skull.
“Mår du dåligt? Kan jag hjälpa dej?” The concerned tone made him look up even though he didn’t understand the words.
“I am sorry… I do not speak…” He whimpered and pressed his hands against his head in a futile attempt to keep the headache from intensifying.
“Oh, you speak English! Are you ill? Is there anything I can do to help?” The young man who stood beside him looked worried, small wonder Celebrimbor thought, he probably looked like he was dying.
“Migraine”, was all he managed to force out before a new wave of pain made speech all but impossible.
“Oh! You need dark and quiet… I know just the place. Follow me!” Celebrimbor tried to keep up with the swift-footed human but found it difficult. The young man slowed down when he realised Celebrimbor was dropping behind and gently took his hand.
“Close your eyes if it’s easier for you, I’ll lead you.”
It was strange, Celebrimbor thought, how easy it was to trust this stranger and just close his eyes and allow himself to be led by the hand to wherever they were going. The loud noises around him grew even louder, then faded slowly into the distance as he followed the helpful man.
“There are stairs here”, the man warned quietly. “Just a few steps, then we’ll be indoors and the AC will make life a little more bearable for you.”
Celebrimbor had no idea what he meant by AC, but once they passed through the door to the building he felt cool air against his face. He sighed with relief, but the headache still pounded in his temples and his eyes felt like they were going to pop out of his skull, so he kept them shut still.
The sound of their shoes on the floor changed from echoing steps on stone to barely audible, it felt like the floor was covered in something soft and sound-absorbing. They passed through another door, and then his guide stopped and said:
“I think you can open your eyes now, it’s fairly dark in here, and if I draw the drapes it’ll be even darker. There’s a daybed in the corner, you can lie down if you need to. I’ll leave you alone, but do you need anything – do you have medicine? Should I get you painkillers?”
Celebrimbor cautiously opened his eyes and noticed the young man was telling the truth. The room they were in was fairly large, with a high ceiling, and it was dark enough that even he, with his Elven sight, had trouble making out the daybed. He carefully made his way over to it and sat down with a sigh of relief.
“I do not have any medicine. There is not much I can do about the migraine, I can just try to rest until it passes.”
“Get some rest then. I’ll be in the room to the right of this one if you need to find me.”
“You do not know me at all, yet you are so kind to me. Thank you. May I know my saviour’s name?”
“My name is Joel. And yours?”
“Call me Khel, my first name would be rather hard for you to pronounce.” And too easily recognisable if there were still people about who remembered the old stories.
Joel left the room and Celebrimbor tried to make himself comfortable on the daybed. It was a bit too short for his tall frame, but he managed to find a position that allowed him to relax somewhat. He wasn’t going to sleep of course, but he could rest his weary spirit for a while. He wasn’t sure why the Doomsman had insisted on leaving him in Stockholm of all places. He’d just been given some information on the city and the country, and Námo had also given him a stack of paper bills that passed for money here and a small flat rectangular object made of something called “plastic”, which the Doomsman told him could be used to pay for things if he ran out of the strange paper money. He got a tiny book with writing on the cover and a picture of him inside along with more writing and was informed it was a document he would need for travelling. Celebrimbor had noticed during the ferry ride that he was able to decipher what passed for writing here, strange angular symbols that reminded him more of Dwarven runes than Elven tengwar. The language of most of the writing was one he only understood a few words of, but there was also writing in what he perceived as Common, but Joel had identified as English.
He hated feeling so fragile. Reembodiment was supposed to cure ailments from the previous life, but in his case it hadn’t quite worked. Oh, his body was healed, mostly, from the torment he’d withstood. The Doomsman told him the pains he experienced came from his fëa, his spirit, not his hroa, his physical body. He wasn’t sure it mattered where the pain came from, it was real enough and it incapacitated him from time to time.
He drifted off for a little while and astonishingly, the pain in his head subsided somewhat. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, when he decided he needed to get up. He had to find a place to spend the night and he couldn’t really impose on Joel more than he already had. He got to his feet and made his way to the door. The corridor outside was empty and quiet, but he thought he heard something from the adjacent room. Joel had said he’d be in the room to the right, so Celebrimbor decided to look in on him and thank him for his kindness before leaving to find accommodation.
As he approached the door that was left ajar, he realised what he’d been hearing was music. He peeked into the room and found Joel seated on a straight-backed chair strumming some type of lap harp. The cascading notes made him think of water rippling over stones in a riverbed. The music made his throat tighten with emotion, as it reminded him of his childhood and his uncle playing and singing for him, sometimes with Fingon joining him. A broken sound, like a sob, made Joel look up and stop playing.
“Khel! Are you feeling better now?” Then he seemed to notice Celebrimbor’s distress and hurried to put the harp away, stepping closer and putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Is something the matter?”
Celebrimbor took a few deep breaths, fighting to regain control over his emotions.
“I am… the music just brought back some memories. Good memories, but of people long gone.”
The young man’s eyes widened in understanding. Celebrimbor thought absently they were his best feature, large and expressive and a lovely chocolate brown. Otherwise he was fairly ordinary-looking, with dark, curly hair to his shoulders, brown skin that bore scars of a youthful skin problem, and a scruffy beard.
“I’m sorry for your loss. Um, how’s your head? I mean…” He broke off and blushed, a surprisingly charming thing that made him look almost child-like, despite obviously being a grown man.
Celebrimbor’s lips twitched in a tiny smile.
“My head is what it is, but the migraine seems to have been postponed for the time being. I just wanted to thank you for your kindness to a total stranger. I am going to go look for accommodation, do you perhaps have any place to recommend?”
Joel pursed his lips. He unobtrusively eyed Celebrimbor, clearly trying to come up with a polite way to answer.
“It depends on what kind of place you’re looking for? I’m, uh, aware that your clothes probably cost more than my monthly rent, but I’m not really familiar with the five-star hotels in Stockholm. I know more about hostels and cheap accommodation, the kind my family would stay at when they come to visit.”
“I am not choosy. I merely need a place to stay for a few days, preferably one that serves at least breakfast, until I figure out what I am going to do next.”
“There is a really fancy hotel just next door, but if you’re not terribly picky I think we can find you a nice one at half the cost of that one.”
“We?” Celebrimbor’s raised an eyebrow in true Elrond fashion.
“Oh, uh…” Poor Joel blushed hotly. “I didn’t mean… I just thought you could use help finding a place. I wasn’t trying to…”
“Oh. Oh no, I am sorry for being rude Joel! I would appreciate the help, really. But you have already done so much for me, I feel as if I am taking advantage of you and your kind heart.”
“It’s not taking advantage if I want to do it. I would like to help you Khel, and it’s not like I’m terribly busy anyway.”
In the end, they decided to look at some hotels before actually booking a room for Celebrimbor. He was taken aback when, instead of going out to visit the places, Joel dug out a metal and glass contraption from his pocket and started tapping on the glassy surface of it, strange pictures and symbols lighting up as he went. Celebrimbor hung over his shoulder, staring in fascination.
“Here, this looks like a good place, and it’s only a few blocks from here. They have good reviews and it says the breakfast is to die for! Should I make a reservation for you, or do you just want to go there? They seem to have vacancies, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Going there sounds good. I could use some fresh air after the migraine.”
“Fresh air… is probably not something you’ll find a lot of right now, as it’s the afternoon rush hour, lots of cars and exhausts. Let’s get going then.”
As they walked through the foyer of the building, steps echoing on the stone floors, a woman hailed Joel in a bright, cheerful voice. She came hurrying towards them, high heels clicking, her eyes trained on Celebrimbor even as she spoke to Joel. He interrupted her quickly:
“This is Khel, he doesn’t speak Swedish, so English, please!”
“Oh, how rude of me, I’m so sorry! Where are you from Khel?” She fairly quivered with curiosity, studying the Elf so intently he felt as if she was undressing him mentally. Were people here all so brazen, or was there something wrong with how he looked? Celebrimbor avoided her eyes and blushed.
“Look Tina, we were just leaving, we need to go get Khel some medicine and find him a hotel, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, ok?” Joel, bless his heart, put a hand on Celebrimbor’s shoulder and steered him towards the door, away from the woman who was looking at him like she wanted to devour him.
They made it out into the street, where it was still sunny and hot. Joel hurried Celebrimbor towards the street corner, where he stopped, glancing at the iron poles with a figure of a man lit up in red. There was an annoying beeping sound, and the metallic vehicles (cars, that’s what they were called Celebrimbor remembered from Námo’s briefing) sped past in large numbers.
“Khel, I’m sorry she made you uncomfortable. She’s a man-eater, that one.”
Celebrimbor turned to face him with a shocked expression, and Joel chuckled.
“Not literally! She’s not a cannibal! She’s just very fond of men… and can be very persistent when she sees one she finds attractive. And believe me, you are. You’re extremely attractive, you must know that?”
Celebrimbor shrugged, ill at ease. He had never thought of himself as particularly attractive, and he told Joel as much. The young man stared at him like he was out of his mind.
“I suppose I just – I grew up in a family of beautiful people and I was never noticed for the way I looked.”
“Your family must be a squad of supermodels. Don’t you ever look in the mirror?”
“Not really. I have always been more preoccupied with my work. As long as my hair does not get into my eyes when I work, it is sufficient. It has ever been the same with clothing, if it is sturdy and protects one from the elements, it is good enough.”
Joel laughed and shook his head, then indicated to Celebrimbor that they should cross the street. He noticed the red figure was no longer glowing, instead there was a green one depicting a walking man, and the beeping sound sounded different now. How curious.
Getting a room at the hotel turned out to be very simple. Joel helped by explaining to the young woman manning the desk, and all that was required was for Celebrimbor to pay using the plastic rectangle, which he learned was called a credit card, and hand his travel document to the woman so she could note his personal information. The only snag he hit was when he was required to punch in a four-digit code for the card. He had no idea what the code would be but looked in the leather purse where he kept the card, and there was a piece of paper there with a code, so he tried that and it worked. Joel tutted and told him he should never keep the code with the card. Celebrimbor shrugged. Now that he had used the code once, it was firmly lodged in his brain and he wouldn’t need the note anymore.
The hotel room was spacious and really quite nice, with a bed that Celebrimbor noticed was large enough that he could probably lie across it comfortably. Joel opened a door and there turned out to be a rather large bathroom with a tub and a number of small bottles on the vanity.
“Well, it looks like you’re all set now”, Joel said. “I’ll just leave you to it then. I hope you enjoy your stay in Stockholm.”
Celebrimbor frowned. He was thankful to the young man who had been so helpful and friendly, and also was the only person he knew in this town.
“I am sure I will. Do you need to go? I thought I could treat you to dinner, as a thank you for taking such good care of a complete stranger. Oh… maybe you already have plans for the evening? I am sorry, I do not want to impose.”
“No, no, I don’t have anything planned for tonight. I just thought… that maybe you wanted to be left alone. I’d love to have dinner with you Khel.”
Celebrimbor got a feeling there was something he was missing, some social clue, but he ignored it and smiled at Joel. He was a little taken aback at the young man’s reaction – he blushed a deep red and looked like he was about to cry.
“Well, shall we go then? You can pick a place, I am sure you know places with good food?”
They left the hotel room, Joel reminding Celebrimbor that he needed to take the plastic card that unlocked the door. They strolled along streets that were growing less busy as the hour grew later, and Joel explained that many people had finished their workday by now and gone home. Celebrimbor took note of the fact that the sun was still fairly high in the sky and thought to ask Joel whether people here worked very short days, but then he remembered this was a Northern city, so maybe the sun would be over the horizon for weeks. He wasn’t sure if Stockholm was that far north but didn’t want to ask Joel outright.
They chatted a little on their way to the restaurant Joel had chosen. It turned out he was a professional musician in the beginning stages of his career, which was why he had access to the room he’d taken Celebrimbor to. Joel explained that the building belonged to the Royal Swedish Academy of Music and the practise rooms were not open to the public.
Celebrimbor was a little vague about what he did for a living, but he confessed to being a jeweller and silversmith among other things. He didn’t go into much detail about his family either, apart from saying it was a family of artisans, musicians and scientists.
The restaurant was a small, rather intimate one, and the food turned out to be lots of small dishes with delicacies that had Celebrimbor enraptured. They talked some more, but mostly about the food, the wine (Celebrimbor had insisted on getting a bottle of white wine) and whether to try some of the desserts. Once they’d ordered a whole tray full of different kinds of sweets, silence fell. At least until someone said Joel’s name, and they were suddenly surrounded by a group of people, two women and three men. Before they knew it, they were all seated at a larger table and Celebrimbor was being introduced to Joel’s old friends from the music academy.
The women introduced themselves as Raija and Malena, the men were called Marcus, Jamal and Tobias. They were all very young in Celebrimbor’s eyes, but then, so was Joel.
And they were curious! They wanted to know everything about him – where he was from, why he was in Sweden, how he liked Stockholm, when and how he met Joel, had he heard him playing the harp, how long was he staying? He noticed to his relief that while all of them eyed him surreptitiously and with some interest, none of them were as blatant about it as the woman they’d run into at the Royal Academy. One of the men had something of a predatory glint in his eyes but seemed too polite to express his interest openly. The girls were clearly intrigued but he got the feeling they were holding back as well. Celebrimbor was relieved to say the least.
Until he realised why they were holding back. In the middle of a discussion about a concert that was to take place the following week, the blonde girl, Raija, suddenly looked at Joel meaningfully and chirped:
“But maybe you aren’t coming Joel? If you’re otherwise occupied, I mean.” She winked at Joel and then smiled at Celebrimbor.
Joel blushed, refusing to look at Celebrimbor. He shook his head and stuttered something about having gotten tickets for the event a long time ago and of course he was attending. Celebrimbor frowned. Joel seemed ill at ease, and the girl was clearly baiting him in hope of something. What was she getting at? Why would Joel be otherwise occupied?
The epiphany almost made him blush too. They thought Joel was romantically (or at least sexually) involved with him! He was about to vehemently deny any romantic interest, when he noticed Joel’s downcast eyes.
“I only just met Joel, I could not monopolise him like that and force him to change his plans just because of my selfish wishes to keep his company.” His reply was made in a soft, friendly tone of voice with just a little hint of infatuation. It wasn’t exactly a lie, and he could see the gratitude in Joel’s expression. The girls cooed at him for that answer, and Malena rather pointedly asked one of the men, Celebrimbor thought it was Marcus, if he was taking notes.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Joel’s friends left to go to clubbing, whatever that was. Celebrimbor realised that even though Common, or English as the people here called it, was known to him, there were words he knew but their meaning in context just eluded him. Clubbing was one such word. Benefits was another, as Tobias had confided in a whisper that Malena and Marcus were friends with benefits.
Once the others had left, an uncomfortable silence reigned for a while. Then Joel seemed to reach a decision:
“Thank you for letting them believe that we… I mean, that you and I are involved. It makes things so much easier if they think that’s the case.”
“I must confess I do not understand why, but I saw the look on your face and it felt like the right thing to say. Why would you want your friends to believe you and I are courting?”
The explanation for this was simple, and Celebrimbor thought that not much had changed from the time he was a youth. You had the popular crowd, and you had the ones that followed the popular crowd, and then you had the outcasts. He got the feeling Joel was an outcast, or at least on the outskirts of the followers. It turned out he was right. Joel had been one of the odd ones, and the people they’d run into this evening were part popular, part followers. He told Celebrimbor they wouldn’t have looked at him twice if he’d been out to dinner alone, but with a companion, and one as attractive as Celebrimbor at that, the situation was different.
Joel was such a kind, decent person. It didn’t feel right that he’d be lonely, looked down upon by his so-called friends. His musical talent alone should be enough to make people flock around him, but Joel explained he felt very uncomfortable performing in front of large audiences. Celebrimbor inspected him furtively. It’s true he was rather unremarkable, medium height and skinny, dark hair, thin beard… he also didn’t possess the kind of charisma that would make people notice him in a crowd. Celebrimbor thought of his uncle Maglor, who could have stood in front of an audience with a cloth sack covering his head and body and still would have mesmerised everyone with just his voice.
Celebrimbor paid for their meal, once again using the plastic card, and they left the restaurant. At the entrance to the hotel they said goodnight, and Joel turned to walk away, when he turned around and asked Celebrimbor for his phone number. The elf remembered the concept from Námo’s crash course, but had to inform Joel that regretfully, he didn’t have a mobile phone. When he saw the young musician’s woebegone expression, he quickly asked him if he would mind helping him get one the next day, as he had need of one. Seeing Joel’s face light up was worth the trouble of the little lie. They agreed Joel would come by the hotel the next morning and accompany him to some shops that sold all sorts of electronic devices.
As Celebrimbor crawled underneath the duvet, he wondered what had possessed the Doomsman to take him to Stockholm. Was there something about the city that was particularly healing, or was it just Námo’s idea of a joke?