"If there lay no grievance between us, lord, still the kingship would rightly come to you, the eldest here of the house of Finwe, and not the least wise."

- 'The Return of the Noldor', The Silmarillion - 

***

"You share in our disgrace, elleth."

Luimëníssë stirred on a bench by the hearth in the Great Hall, running a pale hand over her dry eyes. She had not been invited to the meeting between the princes of the House of Finwe. She had not wanted to be present for it. 

Thankfully, her brother had departed quickly when he'd returned from the wild with the frail maiden, Iestiel. She did not want Vantaro and Caranthir in close company for long. The scar her brother had given him still ran long and deep on the ellon's once handsome face, savaging his strong features.

Celegorm stood before her wearing a smirk that mirrored her husband's. She had never noticed. Celegorm and Curufin were two sides of the same coin. They had the same face, the plush mouth, sharp cheekbones, pointed chin and heavy eyebrows. Only where Curufin was dark haired and black eyed, Celegorm's curls glowed honey gold in the firelight, his blue eyes alight with vicious mischief. 

"What?" She murmured, coming out of an exhausted stupor. She was so weary, her feet still sore from wandering without shoes in the freezing dark. Rubbing at her ring finger, she looked towards the door where the meeting had been held. "What- what happened?"

"My brother seems to have lost his mind to the wastes of Thangorodrim," Celegorm snapped, the sharp smile still on his face. "Or perhaps has been persuaded otherwise in his time among your people. He has given up his rightful claim for kingship over our house."

Wearily, Luimëníssë rose from the bench. "You forget, son of Fëanor. I have no people. Not anymore. Your father saw to that."

"Ah well. Bygones are bygones now. Maedhros, the ever benevolent, has issued an apology to Fingolfin for our actions at Losgar." Celegorm cocked his head to the side. "Did you know your husband didn't participate in the ship burning? We had to lure him away from the coast, to keep him from being distracted by you. And yet you've treated him like the enemy from the moment you stepped foot in Endor." Celegorm let out a shrill whistle, his hound trotting over to his side from where the shaggy animal had lain at the entrance to the hall. "He's been impossible to live with these past thirty years. I don't much care for you, sister dear, but the least you can do is relieve his suffering a little."

Luimëníssë drew herself to her full height and turned her sharp glare towards the fire. "There is more to apologize for than a few burned ships. You are as much a kinslayer as my husband-"

He gently caught her by the elbow before she could storm out of his infuriating presence, the icy smirk still on his mouth. "And yet you knew this when you took him as your own. You were not ignorant of his actions. In fact, he told me that you forgave him for it. Not the rest of us, of course, but him. Don't forget the oaths you swore before the Creator binding yourself to him. Oaths are something we do not take lightly in our family."

Jerking out of his grasp, Luimëníssë stalked towards her bed chamber. As she raced along the corridor, she couldn't evade the heavy suspicion in her heart that Celegorm was right. Even though she disliked him as much as he did her, he was right about her. She had forsaken her own vows as much as Curufin had. And the only thing she could be held responsible for were her actions. She had never given him a chance to make it up to her.

Quiet voices emanated from behind the cracked door of her room. She paused outside before entering.

"...so it has come to be, just as you said, atar," Celebrimbor said.

A heavy sigh followed and the clink of a glass being set on a table. "You knew this day would come as well, son."

"Yes. I did."

"Dispossessed. We have been cursed from the day your great grandfather was murdered on his doorstep." Curufin paused. "You remind me of him. I always feared- I feared you would be like me... like your grandfather. But the older you get, the more I know you are more Finwë's heir than mine."

"Lord Finwë and Lord Olwë."

"...yes, of course. And the Lord Olwë. That's your mother's doing. Even though your Uncle Vantaro wears his grandfather's face. A moment ago when he rode out of here for Doriath, I swore it was a ghost."

"But Olwe is still living."

"Yes. We left him alive at least."

At this, Luimëníssë pushed open the door and stepped into the room, her heart pounding to hear her husband speak of the kinslaying. If she was going to move past those wounds, as deep as they ran, she needed to leave them behind in Aman.

"I see you have both made yourselves comfortable in my quarters."

Celebrimbor hopped up from his seat by the fire, shifting awkwardly between his two parents. The three of them had not be present in the same space since he was barely four years old. Luimëníssë's heart broke at the conflict playing across his young face, unsure where to go, who to stand with, torn between the two elves who loved him most. And whom he loved in return.

Without looking at her husband, she crossed to her son. She pressed a hand to his cheek and he managed a wary smile, his eyes drifting towards his father.

"Go get some rest, son," Curufin spoke softly. "I'll see you in the morning."

With a quick nod, Celebrimbor fled from their presence. She couldn't blame his haste. Luimëníssë swiveled towards the fire, hugging herself to ward off the chill in the room. Wordlessly, Curufin knelt down at the hearth and built up the flames till they roared.

"He's a credit to you, Luimëníssë," he said as he worked.

"A credit to us both," she gently amended. "You've had as much a hand in his raising as me."

The glow bounced off his weary figure, his shoulders stooping and a frown haunting his mouth. "Maedhros is himself and yet isn't. I wonder if it was a mercy to find him at all."

Luimëníssë was stunned silent by his shocking confession. His blank stare traveled along the mantelpiece, studying the objects on it. Mostly pearly shells and white, smooth stones she'd discovered when diving in Lake Mithrim.

"You always had an eye for finding the lovely pieces in a clutter of darkness," he murmured, running a finger over the curve of a mollusk shell. Inevitably, his eyes fell on something at the edge of the shelf. He picked up the ring he'd gifted her before he left for Endor. "Though our days at the beginning were few and filled with uncertainty, the fleeting happiness we had then has haunted me."

She took her place at his side. Curufin was making an effort by talking about it, now she had to show the same courtesy. Strangely enough, she found herself craving his presence now that she stood in it. When Curufin opened up to her, allowing her in for those brief moments, he was all she wanted.

Even with memories of past loves filling her dreams. Like the night she'd stumbled in her sleep out into the open only to be rescued by Curufin from a pack of wolves. In her sleep, she saw Rembano for the first time since his death. But oddly, the same feelings for him from her days in Alqualondë hadn't stirred. Not like how she felt now standing next to Curufin in the quiet warmth of her chamber. Rembano seemed to her like he always had, an illusion burning too bright to hold for long. Curufin, in contrast, was flesh and blood.

His realness hummed in her veins as a brief flash of memory leaped into her mind. Curufin had grasped her thigh with a confident hand, the weight of his body pressing her into the blankets on the bare ground. Echoes of the eternal night had filled her senses as he hungrily kissed the base of her throat, rocking her back and forth with each shared breath. Her heart hitched as she forced herself to the present from that long ago moment on the edge of Valinor.

Curufin turned towards her in surprise as she placed a hand over his, slipping his ring over her finger. Neither of them breathed.

"I have often thought of those days as well," she whispered, her eyes trained on the muscled stem of throat exposed above the loose silver ties in his tunic. "I have not forgotten you these thirty years, husband. I tried. But I can't."

Curufin met her eyes, his brow falling heavy and lips harsh. Grasping her wrists, he pulled her tight to his chest, pressing his forehead to her's. They stood a moment, eyes closed, breathing in each other. He tenderly brushed his lips over her knuckles.

"I never should have gotten on that ship to Endor," he said huskily. "Can you forgive me?"

Tears sprang to her eyes. "I never should have left you on the northern shore of Mithrim, giving you only silence for years."

"I deserved it."

"You were right that first night we met after I arrived in Hithlum. You didn't deserve my judgement, you deserved a chance to explain yourself. And I judged you guilty without a chance at innocence."

"I was guilty. I abandoned you-"

"As I did you these past years. I could have reached out, met with you to give over Celebrimbor. But I didn't. I sent Fingon or Angrod with him. Because I was too eaten up with bitterness. Too forgetful of my own vows to you."

His lips quirked into a half smile, his eyes still sad. Bracing a hand against the side of her face, wrapping her hair around his fingers. "I'm afraid we could go around this whirlwind of blame for hours. Our marriage will never be easily understood, even by us. The strands are much too tangled."

"If anything I suppose that means we are more tightly bound to each other for it."

"That may be true," he said, brushing the heavy strands of her silver hair from her shoulders. Rubbing a knuckle over her ear lobe, he turned towards the door.

"Where are you sleeping tonight?"

Her question stopped him cold in his tracks, his eyes darting to her bed in the corner. "In the guest quarters, of course."

"You shouldn't." Taking his hand, she led him to the bed. She drew him over her as she laid down on her back. "Not tonight."

***

In the darkest hours before dawn, the vision awoke her. It was the same one she'd suffered since her child had been born.

A half naked body was strung over a post, impaled, still bleeding. He hadn't been dead when they'd done this to him. Scarred and beaten, what remained of his partially shaved head of black hair wafted in the smoky air. The wreck of an elf rose high over a horde of orc, brandished like a victory banner.

She didn't need to see the face to know who it was.

"Wife, wife." Curufin's hand grasped her bare shoulder, shaking her awake. His breath caressed her ear as he whispered. "You were fretful in your sleep."

His arm encircled her waist, fingers molding to the curve of her hip bone. He kissed the back of her neck.

"Do you wish to speak of it?" His question hung in the air longer than necessary. He kissed her again, lips lingering against her skin. "What disturbs you?"

She couldn't tell him. She didn't know how to say such a thing out loud. She shook her head and tucked herself into his embrace.

"Very well. Try to sleep a little more then."

Warmed by his body and comforted by his steady heartbeat at her back, Luimëníssë watched the flames in the hearth. Idly, as she drifted off to sleep once more, she realized that the fire should have died hours earlier. She fancied she saw a pair of golden orbs studying her from the depths of the heat before she closed her eyes.