We can always begin again - Chapter 3
Relationships: Celegorm/Aredhel, Curufin/Finrod (background)
Summary: Celegorm didn't think he'd be granted mercy, that he'd be re-embodied or that he'd be welcome anywhere. Aredhel thought she'd never welcome him again after what he'd done. They were never good at staying away from each other.
TW: none for this chapter but a warning: this is mostly canon compliant Celegorm, for what this fic is supposed to be this means Eol won't be beyond salvation (he is in only one chapter briefly but I felt this needed to be said) (Not to worry tho, I have another aretyel fic in the works where Eol is just the worst)
A/N: I rewrote this chapter soooo many times, here's the result of my suffering.
Masterlist - also on AO3
The sun wasn't up yet when Celegorm crept down the stairs and out the door, he was granted neither bow nor arrow when he was re-embodied, it made sense although Celegorm would've argued to be a needless precaution, regardless, it meant he would have to do with whatever he could find.
That was how Aredhel found him when she opened the door to gather some rosemary for the day's food: hair up, shirtless, legs hooked on a tree branch as he hoisted his torso to his knees. She almost laughed.
"You know," she told him "Mobility comes faster if you allow yourself to rest."
He heaved himself up again "Rest is for the dead."
Aredhel decided it was not worth to remind him that he was just that merely yesterday.
"You made an herb garden?" was his panted question.
She shrugged "It's convenient."
"You used to just gather directly from the forest."
"You used to be kind."
It was frustrating how gracefully he jumped from the tree, she had felt wobble footed her entire first year of re-embodiment, pushing jealousy aside she stared defiantly at him, gray eyes she used to know well. The desire to speak to him as if time had never gone by was more easy to push aside when she looked into his eyes.
There were edges there now.
He didn't speak yet, instead he searched for something in her eyes, perhaps he looked in hope of finding that familiarity they used to share when they were children, running away from parties and into the garden, hoping their feet would take them as far as the forests. Would she ever be able to see her friend in this strange man in front of her now? Did she want to?
"You're afraid of me."
She scoffed at his conceited assertion, Aredhel hadn't been afraid of Celegorm since the day she'd seen him fall from his own horse after laughing too hard at a joke.
"I'm not afraid of you," she hissed.
He took a step forward and she took a step back.
His gray eyes took notice of her skipped breath, the way her body moved, all but the throat, terribly unprotected but raising her head in defiance.
"I know," he breathed "how people look when they are afraid of me..."
Aredhel grimaced in disgust "I'm not afraid of you." And she turned around and walked back to the house. Celegorm sighed and berated himself, he hadn't meant to imply weakness. He knew she'd never forgive him such an offence.
He considered going inside an talking to her but he noticed Maeglin was staring at him from the top of the terrace, he had no idea when he'd arrived or if perhaps he'd observed the whole scene, but the man didn't speak, simply continued to watch him. Celegorm wasn't sure how to behave so he let him continue his observation, he'd talk to Aredhel when they were of clear mind so instead he picked a nearby tree branch and fashioned it into a javelin, he couldn't let his accuracy wane simply because he had no bow.
"You weren't my childhood hero."
Celegorm turned around in surprise, Maeglin gaze was something he couldn't truly decipher.
"You don't need to tell me," he shrugged then turned and sent the javelin flying "I enjoy teasing, no need to take me seriously."
That didn't seem to please the other, however, as he furrowed his brows.
"Is it true, then?"
"What exactly? There are many 'truths' about me, you see."
Maeglin raised his chin "My mother's stories," he said "that you speak the language of animals?"
He had to laugh, it was such an innocent question that somehow Celegorm felt lighter simply by hearing it, even Maeglin's inscrutable eyes seemed younger then, how old even was he? Celegorm smiled.
"My personal favorites are worms, they have the most interesting speech pattern you'll ever hear," he explained and watched as Maeglin seemed just a little less defensive than before "Although your mother was more fond of the hounds, alas she didn't share my passion for patterns."
"When I was a child," Maeglin took a step forward "she told me you'd be able to tell me what my pet mole was saying, she told me much of your brothers and about you, I thought you'd simply appear one day to teach me as well."
Maeglin looked away.
"I wished to meet you then, you know," he crossed his arms, gaze set somewhere far from there. This time Celegorm didn't even need to wonder where before Maeglin whipped around to stare at him.
"Did you love her?"
That question surprised him "Irìssë? Of course I did, I still do, she was my best friend, how could I not love her?"
"Not her, Luthièn."
Celegorm didn't dare breath, he knew someone would ask eventually, he expected all the usual accusations and thought he was prepared but now under Maeglin simple question he faltered. There wasn't even a hint of anger or disgust in his words, Celegorm looked around, searching for an answer among the trees perhaps, he wasn't sure. He never expected this and for the longest time he hadn't wanted to think about it.
He was silent for a moment, hands sweating, he paced around, before he could finally stand before Maeglin.
"Most people would say I don't know what love is."
Is all he could find as an answer, he had closed his mind to all memory of Luthièn and the brief moment their paths entwined and the way it changed his own. However, he was aware of what people thought of him, his keen ears never letting a rumour fly. He wasn't lying or exaggerating, Celegorm knew what people looked like when they were afraid of him.
Maeglin nodded, although Celegorm had no idea if it was as an acknowledgement or if he agreed with the sentiment, but Maeglin didn't clarify, simply stared at him.
"You don't know anything about me, do you?"
Celegorm shook his head.
Maeglin raised his chin and pointed towards the house.
"She doesn't let me touch her either."
Celegorm frowned "But you're her son."
"I'm also my father's son. Some destinies are stronger than others."
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how silm characters react to the fandom
Feanaro: gets way too involved way too quickly, has multiple troll accounts and blocks anyone who sa-si’s.
Nerdanel: can’t really use technology but thinks it’s kind of fun.
Maitimo: instant anxiety attack. Is morbidly fascinated by all the russingon smut. Thinks the Fingon content is sweet. Loves kidnap fam.
Maglor: follows nails-in-my-wall. Immediately starts shitposting about his family. Uncertain why half the fandom thinks he’s a crab.
Celegorm: Deleted his account when he realised Finrod got more rep than him. His new account only is on the low down.
Caranthir: embezzling fanartists somehow. No moral compass.
Curufin: found silvergifting, had a heart attack.
Nolofinwë: Anaire keeps complimenting all the art of him and he’s getting flustered.
Fingon: obsessively saves artwork of Maedhros. Ironically endorses the posts calling him a posh asshole.
Aredhel: gets so much closure from all the online support.
Turgon: disproportionately annoyed by one (1) person who said he was insensitive.
Finarfin: always brings up the youngsters on the internet who think he’s a good king.
Finrod: thinks he’s not famous enough. Works to remedy that.
Aegnor: wonders why everyone thinks he owns and frequently uses a hair straightener; cries over every artwork of him and Andreth.
Galadriel: no one knows and it’s frankly disturbing.
Elrond: periodically censors posts using him as a moral compass. Offers hugs to everyone who reblogged that one post.
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