#tyelomion

Fallen Banners (Celebrimbor x Maeglin)

Thank you @thescrapwitch for tagging me! I'm currently on vacation this week, and the wifi is a bit spotty here, but I'm doing my best to sneak in some writing when I can, primarily finishing up Light Touched and working on some Silm Smut week prompts. Here's a bit of Celebrimbor/Maeglin playing with hair and some flower language:

So much of himself was conveyed with simpy just his hair. It was overwhelming, the power Celebrimbor had over him, to be able to spill his secrets for everyone to see with a few twists of his tresses and a well placed trinket here and there.

"And the hair clips," Maeglin asked, now holding that warm, clever hand in his own, a cheek pressed against calloused fingers. "What kind of flower are they?"

"Ithilloth," Celebrimbor answered. "They're night blooming flowers, and for that they are seen as mysterious. Yet, they are also a reminder that there can still be beauty found even in the darkest of times. Quite a romantic flower, if you ask me."

“I thought this was supposed to be happy,” Maeglin said from the shadows.

Celebrimbor sighed, laying a hand on his shoulder. Maeglin repressed the urge to flinch away, reminding himself that this was Tyelpë, who ment such gestures genuinely. He was safe with Tyelpë, even amid...all this.

“In this family, any reunion is bound to result in trouble,” Celebrimbor said. “Even having only met Turukáno and Itarillë, surely you must have known that.”

Maeglin shrugged, letting himself lean against his friend for support. It was nice, to have someone like Celebrimbor to rely on. He hadn’t known it could be this nice.

“I’d hoped...” Maeglin grimaced. More fool him for hoping at all. All that time in Mandos had made him soft. “Well, I’d hoped the others would be different. I didn’t expect my mother to be the one causing the trouble...”

“Well, she and my uncle and father have...unfinished business,” Celebrimbor explained. “I know you said she spoke fondly of them, when you were young, but...it’s still complicated.”

“Well, however unhappy this family reunion is, it’s still worlds better than Nan Elmoth,” Maeglin muttered.

Riding

and @foxindarkness

Okay you two, you clearly have an Agenda here so I have obliged you both with 400 words. I have no idea where this is going, please help?

The enormous formations of unhewn rock that rose above and below like daggers cast pale blue shadows against the cave walls as Celebrimbor and Maeglin journeyed deeper into the heart of the Echoriath. A swift shadow suddenly moved through the chiaroscuro of light and Celebrimbor waved his lamp in its direction.

“It’s nothing,” Maeglin said, holding out a hand to help him across a narrow break in the smooth cave floor, “only a trick of the mind.”

“But you saw it?” Celebrimbor asked, turning back to him and taking his hand. “How could we both have seen it?”

“I suppose our minds are no longer so distinct from each other as they once were.” His lips curled into that strange but beautiful smile. “Surely you are not afraid, who dwelt in the deep halls of Nargothrond?”

These caves are not like Nargothrond, Celebrimbor replied, wary of speaking aloud. We should not be here. He passed his hand over the globe of his lamp to dim the light. 

They entered a narrower passage and Maeglin brushed his hand against the wall. “We are almost there,” he said.

When will you tell me where you are taking me? 

“You will see, soon enough.”

The passage seemed to stretch on and on and Celebrimbor counted his steps. He would not allow his rising unease to overcome his reason. Fifteen paces, twenty, fifty, fifty five – they stepped out into a domed cavern over a black lake. The blue of Celebrimbor’s lamp faded entirely, for the cavern was filled with a brighter light, golden-red. He craned his neck and cast his eyes about to look for its source.

“You have come,” came a silken voice across the water. Celebrimbor could feel it creep over the wet stone and through him, settling in his chest. He swallowed and he found himself filled with longing to hear it again.

“Annatar,” Maeglin addressed the voice, “I have brought the grandson of Fëanor.”

“And you trust him?” Annatar spoke. 

“I do,” Maeglin answered. The light swelled and Celebrimbor shielded his eyes against it. When he drew down his arm, he set eyes on the most perfect being he had ever seen and he was filled with desire to be folded into that beauty. 

“Tyelperinquar,” Annatar addressed him and the smooth, dark sweetness of his name made Celebrimbor shiver, “I am glad you have come. I have need of your skill.”