Chapter Text
The next day Celegorm walked into his brother’s room, as always, without bothering himself enough to knock. He did that since their childhood in Valinor, marching to his younger brother’s chambers as if they were his own place. Curufin gave up trying to correct that long ago.
Now the younger Feanorion sat at his desk, leaned above the writing papers, drafting something zealously. The quill pen danced under his hand.
- What are you doing? – asked Celegorm and, receiving no answer, went to see for himself.
…fortunately found the most precious gem of the Kingdom of Nargothrond and are keeping her safe in our custody. I dread to think what could happen, what vicious forces could lay their claims upon the King’s treasure if not for our vigilance…
The fragment was all Celegorm was able to spy not obscured by his brother’s hand or the dark fall of Curufin’s hair.
- Not me but you, - answered Curufin belatedly, as he finished the sentence he was writing. – You, as the actual ruler of Nargothrond, are informing Thingol that we were so kind as to offer his wayward daughter a shelter.
- And why are we doing that? – asked Celegorm not commenting of how their ‘kind care’ could be easily called imprisonment.
- Because it is a nice way to introduce your intentions toward her.
- And what are my intentions?
Curufin rolled his eyes.
- Marriage, of course. – He took in Celegorm’s surprise. - What, you don’t like the idea? You want her, don’t you?
- Well, yes, but-
- And as she happens to be a princess of one of the biggest realms in these lands, a marriage like that would significantly increase our influences. She’s the only child of the King of Doriath so her sons would inherit the throne. Unifying Nargothrond and the forest realm under our capable rule would give us some substantial strength, maybe enough to raise forces enough to threaten the power of Angband.
- All that yes, but she hates me!
Now Curufin looked in surprise at him.
- What does it matter? She’s a spoiled child that doesn’t know what she truly wants. She runs off from her father care because she fancy some mortal and she didn’t get him as her toy. She ends up arguments by stamping her leg and locking up in her room. She has no idea of true politics or importance of state matter.
Celegorm still seemed unconvinced. Curufin sighed.
- Just present her with some gift and she’ll forgive you whatever you wanted to do to her in the woods. And if she doesn’t, - Curufin went back to redacting the letter, speaking with more distraction as he formed new sentences in his head, - her consent isn’t crucial in our plans.
When a knock came, Lúthien considered if she shall answer at all but then, sitting without purpose hardly could gain Beren any help so she opened the door (which, by now, she had hasped any time she spent in the chamber) and stood face to face with the elf she had studiously avoided lately.
Celegorm, in his red princely robes, embroidered with silver Feanorian stars, looked a bit more civilized than he did in the forest wearing hunting skins. His manners were even more polite as, instead of forcing his way inside, he asked simply:
- May I come in?
Lúthien still eyed him suspiciously and if not for Huan slumbering at the feet of her bed, she probably wouldn’t even consider agreeing. But Huan did not growl, observing the scene lazily with one eye open. Assured by dog’s behavior, Lúthien stepped aside.
Celegorm quickly made his way inside, not waiting for any further encouragement. Only then did Lúthien notice the heavy white fur he carried. Before she could ask about it, Celegorm spoke up.
- My lady, I owe you an apology. My behavior in the woods was deplorable but, dazed by your loveliness and charm, combined with the wildness of our surroundings, I failed to control myself. Can you truly blame me for that, o goddess of beauty? I hope my deed can be, if not forgotten, then at least forgiven and that you’ll accept that as the sign of my good will.
Lúthien looked at him wide eyed, too shocked by this sudden change to answer, and he moved to wrap the fur around her shoulders. His touch lingered only second too long and the hide turned coat felt wonderful upon the bare skin of her shoulders.
- And fear not, my lady, that I skinned some good natured creature for you, - smirked Celegorm, - I tore this wolfhame from a beast that was undoubtedly in the service of Evil. Its coat was fully white, without one darker shade, even the claws looked too pale; and its eyes shone corrupted red glint. It must have been an unhappy soul ensnared by the Dark Lord, probably a spy sent by him.
His voice rang honest, and Lúthien wouldn’t suspect him of the two brothers for playing some double game, yet there still was something that bothered her. Some premonition she couldn’t name, couldn’t even truly form in her thoughts but Celegorm stood before her, genuine and suppliant, and she couldn’t just reject his good intentions in harsh words. She stroked the wolfhame thoughtfully, once again marveling at its smoothness.
- I… thank you for the gift, - Celegorm brightened at her words as if she at least accepted an engagement ring from him so she added quickly, - but you must know, my lord, I cannot give you what seek. Your feelings for me will remain unreciprocated, as my heart already belong to someone else.
- To a mortal that will be dead ere the nearest hundred years pass! – spat Celegorm and the familiar anger in him was back.
- All the more we must hurry to help him fight the uneven forces of the Enemy! He set off because of me and is now somewhere there all alone, while we linger safe in the stronghold and sometimes I feel like I’m the only one that cares for his fate, even though Fëanor’s sons shall be the first to fight Morgoth, not leave it to one brave man!
- Do not call me a coward, my lady, nor do remind me of my Oath, - Celegorm’s voice was low and dangerous now. – Me and my brothers had fought the Enemy all the time since our arrival to Beleriand while you and your kin fared well in your protected realm. And you owe some of that safety to our fights with orcs outside your borders.
His words stung as they reminded Lúthien too much of her own pretentions toward her father.
- I’m sorry, - she reflected. – Perhaps I went too far.
Celegorm looked slightly placated but he was far from the picture of obsequies servant he made when he entered her chamber. Lúthien bit her lip, trying to think of a more diplomatic way to end the conversation, one that would not rile him up even more but also would not give him a deceptive hope.
– Aren’t there any news of Beren? – she asked finally. – It’s been long time since you’ve send emissaries looking for him.
Celegorm’s eye did not even bat as he said:
- No, my lady. We’re doing what we can to find him but these are dangerous lands…
- You will inform me once there is something certain known?
- Of course.
Celegorm moved to walk out of her chamber yet lingered at the doors yet.
- I trust you will join us at the dinner tonight, my lady?
Lúthien had very little desire for that but since Feanorion was the first to offer peace, she would not spoil it.
- With pleasure.