Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Morning, morning, excellent, but not fair. Orange sky in the morning, a warning that should have never been. Celebrimbor stands before light pierced leaves that shimmer like tears. His white robes are lifted by the cool breeze of dawn, his sable hair follows. His silver hair clip with cascading stars like wind chimes. He could only look at the rising sun, wanting to embrace it. Annatar is behind him, he knows this, but his mind is on Finrod and the shards of recent memories that play in his mind. 

He is numb for all the tears have been spent. No light in Finrod’s heart for him, not anymore. Friendship is all they knew, but no more. Helpless and paralyzed to Finrod, to the words behind the harp. Undone. Now, there is only the awakening day and time to piece Celebrimbor back together.

There were never lies between them, not like Annatar once was, but it doesn’t matter now. Now Annatar is the truth, their love is the truth and the truth means nothing to Finrod. The door is shut and it hurts. Celebrimbor is numb yet he hurts. Finrod no longer sees and it hurts. Yet the tears have been spent. Not the memories and they never will be.

”Define forgiveness.”

Finrod asks of this with his hands on his renowned harp. 

“Can you tell me what forgiveness is?”

No answer is sufficient. Celebrimbor knows it now. Finrod’s mind was made up long before their arrival. Celebrimbor knows it now. Did Annatar know? Right now, he dares not ask, but other memories like chaotic dreams surface when Celebrimbor recalls his attempted apology.

“I don’t mean that I think I’m doing something wrong. I don’t. But I’ve chosen a world that hurts you, and for that I am sorry.”

”Your words are hollow.”

Hollow. To be told that. Just the thought undoes Celebrimbor again, like the same dagger thrust into him all those years ago in Eregion. There was nothing he could say. He knows that now. Finrod had a million reasons, a million worlds, a million memories he is unwilling to set aside despite all those who surround him now. The door is shut, so shut that not even a battering ram could force it open. Celebrimbor never saw it coming, but he can see the sun now slowly climbing to greet the earth and clouds and those who are aware. Celebrimbor can’t bring himself to answer. 

The wind embraces him like the memories of Annatar’s warm, beautiful hands. It is his only comfort and yet he still hurts, helpless and paralyzed. He expected this from others, but not from Finrod. An admission of good, of doing good, of knowing that Annatar is no longer the evil he once was. Not good enough. No hope. No light in Finrod’s heart for them. 

“I can forgive, but I can’t forget. Whatever world you seek to build, I want no part of it.” 

Another dagger. Another shock, but Celebrimbor intends to keep those memories.

“I don’t hate either one of you, but please don’t come here again.”

Now the tears flow again, but it’s okay. Annatar is close behind him and and the radiance from him is bright and more beautiful than a thousand stars and not even the sun itself is a match. Celebrimbor’s dares to think that even the Two Trees are no match for the one beside him. He smiles a wow in his thoughts.

”Do you feel better?” Annatar asks with an embrace from behind. Light hair against dark. The wind creates chimes again.

Celebrimbor leans against him, wanting nothing more than to savor the healing fire so close to him while pink blossoms fly around them. “Let’s just stay like this for a while more. I’ll feel better then.”

”Interesting, really,” Annatar says. They are cheek to cheek now. “He’s a friend to everyone, except for us. Of all the doors that are shut, I honestly wish his wasn’t.” 

“It’s okay,” Celebrimbor replies, feeling Annatar’s heart against him, the scent of cyprus strong. “I can see him now.” His eyes close and Finrod is in his vision with a harp, his wife and father next to him with the great hound Huan sitting a few feet away. Small smiles are present along with subtle lights. “We’ll be okay. His doors are shut to us, but ours will remain open.” 

They don’t bother keeping track of time as they stay against the foliage filled breeze. There is peace. There are two men in each other’s arms framed by the morning sky, flowers, and trees. When Celebrimbor opens his eyes again, he  sees rings of light floating in front of him. Three colors. Two reminders. One idea. For his immortal beloved, excellent, precious and fair. 

Chapter Text

Some doors are open, wide open, and will stay that way. When that happens, Celebrimbor is slow on his horse, a smile adorning his lovely face while the wispy white clouds paint a bright blue sky reflected in his eyes. Annatar is behind him, not having to hold on, his face rubbing against Celebrimbor’s thick, black hair. Annatar is catlike, happy in ways that he had seldom felt before meeting him back in Eregion.

Some doors are shut, but with a slight crack. Maybe, maybe not. This is not currently acceptable to Annatar, but he knows that Celebrimbor will take what he can get. So, it’s okay as long as there is hope. Celebrimbor’s silver booted heels press against his horse, but there is only a mere trot. His hair clip makes light sounds, a lovely silver piece made of stars that make part of his hair look like the midnight sky. Interesting contrast to the sun. Annatar honestly wonders what they would look like under the light of the Two Trees that existed many years ago.

Some doors are shut. Not just shut, but bolted so strongly that they couldn’t be pried open with a steel bar. Hopelessness laced with terrible accusations and hostility that could set the air on fire. Annatar understood it all, but if he had his way, there would be death for the disrespect heaped upon the elf man he loved. The hated needless friction, the chaos. Some things never change and that is not always such a terrible thing. Annatar can, however, thank Fingolfin for intervening and he knows that Celebrimbor does too. The heels are hard against the horse and the speed is so great that Annatar has to hold on tightly, his hand over Celebrimbor’s rapidly beating heart. There is water around and it does not come from the sky. It tastes a little like salt and rage as it passes through dark unbound hair. 

Celebrimbor slows the horse to a stop, mutterring apologies as his hand brushes over the chestnut mane. 

“I’m not crying for myself, be assured,” he says with his eyes looking towards the sun. He lets the wind continue to carry his falling tears. When his heart resumes its usual rhythm, he speaks again. “The worst is over now, I’m sure. There’s only one visit left.” 

“Ah, Finrod,” Annatar sighs, recalling the legendary duel of songs between them, the werewolves he sicced on him and his companions, and his conquest of Tol Sirion. 

“Yes, Finrod indeed,” Celebrimbor speaks in a tone full of longing. “He is kinder than some of the others, and he is dear to me.  Still, the wounds were grievous as you well know.”

“So, which door will he be behind?” Annatar muses, his head resting on Celebrimbor’s shoulder. He purrs and doesn’t want to help it.

Celebrimbor leans back, allowing his black hair to cascade over Annatar. “Only one way to find out.” 

The house is as bright as expected, full of flowers, of music, of golden haired people surrounded by talk of all sorts along with tea and laughter. In the garden entrance there stood a man of impossible beauty. Not Finrod, but greatly resembled him and Galadriel. His smile is like the sun, his eyes like a daylight sea, his hair like the legendary golden tree of Valinor. Breathtaking.

”It has been long since I’ve seen you, Tyelperinquar,” he says, his voice pure music. “Clearly you have grown into your greatness. Welcome, both of you.” 

Annatar smiles at this, a wide, clear smile, but Celebrimbor merely blushes. 

“You do flatter me, dear Grand Uncle,” he replies with an awkward grin. He grasps Annatar’s hand. “I am glad to see you again after countless years of being away. I would like to visit Finrod for it’s been far too long since I have seen him.”  

They are led to a sunlit sitting room full of musical instruments, well pillowed sofas, and various tables full of finger foods with drinks. No one is paying attention to the details for in the center is Finrod. He sits next to a large golden harp and a flaxen haired woman stands beside him. Annatar suspects that she is his wife or lover. Finarfin stands on the other side of the harp, his blue eyes fixed on Annatar. Finrod, on the other hand, quickly looks away.

”Annatar,” Finarfin says. “I see you. I know your names. I know your deeds both good and evil. I know who you are now. You have many names and have chosen Annatar.” He smiles. “It makes sense for in all of your manifestations, you have been generous in many ways. Though parts of your nature will remain as they are, your repentance is sincere. I can see it and I can see why you have made that choice.” He smiles, and he looks like a sunray.

”You both look beautiful,” the blonde elf woman says. “I am Amarie, Finrod’s wife. It’s good to see you after so long, Tyelpe.”

”It is indeed good. The light is brighter now that we are finally reunited,” Celebrimbor answers. Yet Finrod does not look up. 

Finarfin looks upon his eldest son. “Finrod, they are your kin.”

”They…” Finrod whispers. He is still not looking up and his eyes are now closed.

”Yes,” Finarfin replies. “They are married. It’s been common knowledge for a while.”

”I know…” Finrod finally looks up, but there is no smile and his blue eyes look like clouds before a storm. “It’s clear that karma has been kind to you, ‘Annatar’.”

“It did not come easily, be assured,” Annatar replies.

”I went through a great deal,” Celebrimbor adds. “We both did, but now we are here.” He holds his hands out and smiles. He looks lovely and Annatar can only feel affection. “You have been dear to me, Finrod, you know that. I am pleased to see you again and I’m sure that karma has been kind to you as well given all that has happened.”

”Most of which is because of him,” Finrod looks at Annatar. “Not just your father. Neither one of you do anything without a reason, so why have you come?”

Both Finarfin and Amarie look shocked, but Celebrimbor has no such look.

”I only wished to see you, dear cousin,” he replies. “To reforge the bond we once had.” 

“With /him/ included, I’m sure,” Finrod says, looking downward. 

“I have wronged you,” Annatar says. “I know that. I can only atone for all that I have done.”

”It’s not just me,” Finrod says. “Others in Nargothrond, who lost everything. Mortal friends who died far too soon. Lives ruined irrevocably,” he glares at Annatar, “and all because of him. I think of Barahir quite a bit in Aman, knowing that he will never be here.”

”Barahir?” Annatar asks.

”You don’t remember him?”

”Honestly, I don’t.” He replies.

Finrod nods. “It’s to be expected. You weren’t there when the orcs attacked him and Beren lost his father that day.”

”I do remember Beren…” Annatar says, recalling the ones he sent to the dungeons below the Tower of Werewolves. 

“Do you remember Huan? I bet you do. Do you remember Luthien? I’m sure you remember her and how she could have rightfully had you disembodied, but she spared you. I wonder what she thinks of you now, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Celebrimbor’s light dims and this does not please Annatar but he remains impassive as his husband speaks.

“Is there no forgiveness in you? For him? For /us/?” Celebrimbor sounds pained and that too does not please Annatar.

“Define forgiveness.”

They say nothing. All Celebrimbor and Annatar could do is look at each other as if Finrod spoke from another planet. Neither had any idea that such a thing would be asked of them.

“Can you tell me what forgiveness is?” Finrod asks, his voice soft and yet everyone in the room could hear it.

“Yes,” Celebrimbor answers. “It’s letting go of all the anger, the hurt, the resentment towards one who has wronged you, and moving past it.”

”Does it say anything about forgetting?”

”No.”

”Does it say anything about reconciliation?”

Celebrimbor hesitates. ”No.” He quickly adds. “Finrod, I’m sorry.” When there is no answer, except for quizzical looks, he goes on. “I don’t mean that I think I’m doing something wrong, I don’t, but I’ve chosen a world that hurts you, and for that I am sorry.”

Now, there is an answer. ”Your words are hollow.” 

The phrase is a dagger through Celebrimbor’s heart, one far worse than the physical ones of Eregion of old, but it does not stay his will.

“Why?” 

“Because your choices are irrelevant,” Finrod replies like a flying dart. “No matter what Arda becomes, the memories remain unchanging, past deeds unchanging. They will always be with me even with a million Ardas and every single time I see /him/, they will surface and since you are his husband, it extends to you as well. You will be constant reminders, so I want no part of your world or the choices you have made.”

Celebrimbor shakes his head. Annatar can sense the distress. ”I am damned in your eyes no matter what I do, it seems. If I didn’t apologize, you would see me as a monster to be slain, but I would rather stick my neck out and try than not to try at all!” 

This time Finrod smiles. “Yes, you would and that is why you are admired. It’s why he ultimately yielded to you. Your love, your words proved greater than he, but they fall short to me.” Before anyone can reply, he goes on. “If you want forgiveness, then you shall have it, but there will be no bond between us. Not ever again.”

Celebrimbor’s breath staggers and it’s clear to Annatar that he is holding back tears. “You’re not being fair…”

”It would be best that you not speak of fairness,” Finrod replies. 

“How dare you!” Annatar finally snaps.

”Hmph.” Finrod nods. “It’s just like you to have some nerve, but I don’t blame you. The world that I have chosen hurts him and an apology is due from me, I’m sure, but I feel that my words would ring hollow too.” His eyes never leave Annatar’s. It is blue versus gold, but no one moves. “You won't hurt me. You can’t. You don’t have the desire to. Not anymore and that is a good thing. Both of you will indeed do much good in the world and that is the ultimate justice to me. The only way an apology will truly matter.”

”So there is hope,” Celebrimbor says.

”There is not,” Finrod answers, his voice the result of a mind made up long before they arrived at Finarfin’s home.

Celebrimbor’s eyes lower. From the corner of his eye, he can see Annatar looking down and away. He sees Finarfin merely shaking his head. Amarie has only pity in her eyes. He looks back at Finrod.

”So, you would hate us?” His heart is breaking and he fails to swallow his tears as he feels like he is being undone.

Finrod’s voice is like a soothing wind, one that carries others far away. “I don’t hate either one of you, but please don’t come here again.” 

Before there is any response, Amarie stands between Finrod and Celebrimbor.

”Namarie”. 

As they pass through the double doors that Amarie closes, they can hear the harp play a simple melody. They don’t doubt that she is sitting beside him nor do they doubt that others will be joining them sooner or later. Maybe Huan is with them. Maybe Finrod is smiling with Amarie. Maybe he is at peace with his decision.

Whatever the case, Celebrimbor’s head is lowered, his tears now dry as he leaves with Annatar to face the slowly setting sun.

“Tyelperinquar! Annatar!”

Both freeze at that voice. They turn and see Finarfin on the second floor balcony, his sky blue robes carried by the breeze, a shining light against the oncoming twilight.

“I will not impose the two of you on Finrod, but he only speaks for himself. Though his doors are shut, mine will remain open!”  

Celebrimbor steps forward. To Annatar, it looks like he is glowing. “Thank you. It means a lot to us.”

The walk is slow, but steady as the stars gradually awaken while the sun falls asleep. It is not long before the moon appears. The horse is with them, well fed and content. 

”Do you want to know why I turned away from repentance the first time around?” Annatar asks. 

Celebrimbor stops and stares, but says nothing, only waiting for an answer that would happen whether he said anything or not.

“Because of situations like this. I told myself that it was pride while history said it was fear or a mixture of both. When I watched you speaking with Finrod, I realized that it was indeed fear and honestly believing that I lacked the strength to face the consequences. I merely assumed the worst without actually facing it.”

The steady wind moves Celebrimbor’s hair as he tilts his head to the side, the silver stars swaying in the air. “Yet you faced it anyway with me.”

Annatar sighs. “Yes, and I left as you had wanted.” He focuses on a star that shines like a distant sun. “And we both know what happened then.” 

Celebrimbor grabs his hands and they now look into each other’s eyes. Gold and silver with equal amounts of fire. “Yes, and now we are here.” 

There is nothing left to say because many of their words have already been said. Yes, it was Annatar’s choice to yield. Right words at the right time that revealed a bleak future, a bleak soul that would eventually end in thin air with no power and the worst of it, no Celebrimbor. 

Now, there is an embrace that presses their heartbeats together. Annatar could swear that he hears a harp. 

“I find that the bolted doors matter not anymore,” he finally says, his head resting on Celebrimbor’s shoulder. “If they never did matter either way, then things would have turned out differently, I’m sure. What happened with Finrod was regrettable, but I feel that his forgiveness is more than enough despite the things he said.”  

“It hurts, it truly does,” Celebimrbor replies over Annatar’s cloud colored hair, “but it will pass as other doors are open and we can simply go through those. Though Finrod’s door is shut, ours will remain open.” He holds Annatar at arm’s length. “Beyond that, we move forward.”

And they do. Eventually, the sun puts the stars to sleep and Celebrimbor sees it all from atop his horse. He feels Annatar behind him and he looks downward at his husband’s hands. /You need a new gift from me, Lord of Gifts/. He thinks of a ring. Not a gold one, but silver. He recalls the stars that witnessed them and captures three of them in his mind. A single idea for two. 

Perfect for the fair and excellent morning.