The tension had failed to fade from most of the Eldar after the first month since their reunion. Yet the Noldor were not given to idleness. Despite their long journey, Filgolfin's people worked to fortify the northern bank of Lake Mithrim. The structures were nearly complete. Despite the losses that both groups had suffered in their crossing, Fingolfin's people remained the most numerous. Even the most begrudging of them had to admit that they worked better together than against each other.

"Ita-" Luimëníssë stopped herself, closing her eyes and hissing a breath her nose. "Celebrimbor, come here."

She was still having a difficult time getting used to the change in name for her son. Thankfully, he was young enough that he got used to it quickly. After she and her husband had sat down with him and explained why he would now be called something other than Itano, he had merrily told them it sounded like an amusing new game. Curufin, the Sindar name her husband had adopted in honor of their new home and it's native language, had laughed. Luimëníssë had managed a smile for her child's benefit.

Celebrimbor raced over to where she stood outside the tent. He was covered from foot to knee in mud after he'd been digging for rocks all morning on the bank, Vantaro sulking as he watched him. Luimëníssë clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"You're a disaster," she muttered, brushing the dirt from his hose. "I thought I asked you to make sure he didn't get too messy."

Vantaro smirked. "Messy is a relative term, dear sister."

Her brother was impatient for the next time Findekáno, now called Fingon, would take him out again. They had just returned from scouting the southern side of the lake. Luimëníssë was happy to hear that Vantaro had been lighthearted and distracted by the business. But then they received word from a grey elf about a pack of orc spotted not far from their camp. Fingon had gone to investigate.

Vantaro had begged to go as well, but Luimëníssë had put her foot down. He was too young to engage in battle. Though Ingoldo had been training him in blades, Fingon taking up his lessons in the bow as he was the best archer of all of them, Vantaro was far from ready for active combat. He'd been hateful towards her ever since Fingon had departed with Curufin's youngest brother and a grey elf named Celonion.

"Why do you insist on changing his name?" Vantaro spat, leaning against a pole that held up the circular tent and picking his nails with a short knife. "Itano was just fine."

Luimëníssë grunted as she changed her restless son into clean clothes. "Because... my husband needs to have a hand in his life as well..."

Vantaro snorted. "As though he's earned it. Abandoning you-"

"That's enough, little brother. If you aren't going to add positively to the conversation, I suggest you keep quiet," Luimëníssë snapped, losing her temper as she buttoned the last of the toggles on Celebrimbor's tunic.

Vantaro paced in front of the tent for a moment. "Maybe it would be better if I just wandered off into the forest by myself. I could do it."

"I don't doubt it, but for now, you must stay with us." She picked up her son and hitched him onto her hip. "Can I trust you to keep your temper at the gathering this afternoon?"

Vantaro shrugged. Before he could answer, Luimëníssë spied Curufin making his way through the busy camp towards them. His hair was combed back into the tight plait he had gotten into the habit of wearing. He gave a razor blade of a smile, his teeth barely showing, but held open his arms for their child.

Luimëníssë didn't bother smiling. "Fingolfin says he will make the announcement first."

"Yes. I know." Curufin took Celebrimbor. He dug into his pocket. With a vague grin, he tugged out a chain and dangled it in front of his son. "This is for you, little one. A naming gift."

Luimëníssë noticed the trinket at the end of the necklace. A fiery star. The symbol of Fëanor's house. A creeping chill ran up her spine at the realization that her child would wear the crest of Noldo who had murdered her parents and brother.

"So you will not forget where you come from, where your loyalty lies," Curufin said as he draped it over Celebrimbor's dark head.

"It would have been more appropriate if you had dipped it in blood first, brother-in-law," Vantaro snarled behind her.

Curufin did not look away from his son's face, his arm tightening around the child. "I thought you were going to do something about that, wife? You said you had it under control."

Luimëníssë turned towards her brother, narrowing her eyes. "Be still."

Vantaro gave a wicked smile and strode away, twirling his knife around his fingers. The sooner Fingon returned and took him out into the wild, the better. She feared that her brother was a firestorm waiting to happen as long as he dwelt close to the Fëanorians.

"Are you ready?" Curufin asked, dryly.

Luimëníssë brushed off her dark green tunic and gray hose, her knee high boots covered in mud at the toes and heels. Nothing like she would have worn in Aman to such an event, but still. It would have felt silly attending a gathering in their new home wearing a gown and hair veil, trinkets adorning her hands and head.

"Yes, let's go. We'll be tardy."

The main hall of the largest structure had been completed. Some of the artisans were still carving into the wooden columns, but it didn't compare to anything in Valinor. Still, the displaced elves were doing their best to recall their homeland. It mimicked Lord Olwë's meeting chamber where he had conducted that last fateful meeting with Fëanor.

At the far end of the slowly filling hall was a dais where Fingolfin sat. To his left stood Turukáno. On him right hand was Maglor. The tension between grief stricken Turukáno and the son of Fëanor was palpable. Luimëníssë was reluctant to expose her son to it, but she could not argue as Fingolfin motioned for Curufin to step forward.

Curufin proudly held out his son to his uncle. Fingolfin stood from the seat of honor, taking Celebrimbor in his arms. His smile froze a little when his eyes rested on the seal of Fëanor around the child's neck, but he maintained his composure.

"Friends," he spoke in his commanding voice. "For the first matter of our meeting, I am proud to formally present to you the first child of our new land. His parents have decided to forgo the traditional naming ceremony of our people, seeing as there are many other things that need tending in our new home. But they wished for him to be introduced to the House of Finwë in his father name. I give you Telperinquar, the silver fist. Though he will be known as Celebrimbor in honor of the land where he will be raised."

A shifting whisper passed through the crowd. Luimëníssë had known it would be controversial for her son to take a name in Sindar, but both she and Curufin had agreed to it. They needed to move forward in Endor.

The crowd pressed their hands to their hearts and bowed their heads in acknowledgement as was done in a naming ceremony. Celebrimbor gravely gazed out across his people like a little ruler. Unlike other elf children that might reach for their parents, he looked upon his mother and father as though they were two more of his subjects. Curufin put his shoulders back pridefully, a half smile on his dour countenance. Luimëníssë was too busy noticing her husband's brother approaching the dais.

"And I see the little Noldo already carries the emblem of his house," Caranthir crowed, taking the child from his uncle without asking. "How our father would have loved this first heir of his house. No matter who his mother was."

The room went very still as Caranthir brought the child over to his father with a smug grin. Curufin took Celebrimbor and handed him off to her, Luimëníssë melting into the crowd behind them.

"Thank you, Caranthir." Curufin cocked an eyebrow. "I believe our uncle has a meeting to conduct now."

"Oh! Oh yes, terribly sorry for the interruption." Caranthir smiled poisonously as he took his place beside Curufin. "Please. Continue, uncle."

Fingolfin gave a chilly nod and sat down, Maglor glaring daggers at Caranthir. Luimëníssë shivered when she noticed that Turukáno's muscled hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

"We have gathered together today to discuss a matter close to home," Fingolfin began. "Many of my people are not aware of this matter, but sometime ago, the enemy took Maitimo the Tall and imprisoned him. We are still not sure of the exact location, but I have been discussing the matter with his brother Maglor and our scouts. We may come to know of where Morgoth has our kin in the near future. If it is behind the gates of Angband, we must decide whether we should stage another attack. As we all know by now, Angband is not to be taken lightly. The enemy is much more well fortified than we ever thought possible back in Aman. We have all lost friends and family in our attempts to take it and slay it's master."

"Are you afraid of what our enemy might do, uncle?"

At the pillar closest to Maglor, the brother now called Celegorm leaned against it with his massive hound at his side. She recalled the animal from the night she found Curufin in the woods. It surprised her that the animal would be loyal to such a devious elf yet still gentle with everyone it met.

Celegorm smiled charmingly. The bruises from the beating he'd received from her brother had faded from his square jaw and bright eyes. "I know how intimidating it can seem."

Fingolfin calmly stayed his son from stepping forward. "I have seen the gates myself, nephew. I do not doubt their power and neither should you. But that does not mean we should be afraid. With the arrival of the sun from the Valar, many of Morgoth's servants are weakened. That is why smoke rises from his fortress now, to block the light and allow his orcs to travel unimpeded.

"I don't know why we are discussing our brother as though this is possible," Caranthir blurted out where he stood beside Curufin. "We should be planning to attack Angband, yes. But not for the sake of Maitimo. I do not doubt that he would agree with me. After so many years as Morgoth's captive, even if he is still alive, he would call himself a lost cause if he were here with us."

Maglor stepped down from the dais. "You would speak such words against your own brother?"

"I only speak the truth. I am sure there are others of us who would agree. Celegorm?"

The hunter shrugged, retrieving an apple from his pocket and biting into it. "I suppose he's right, Maglor."

Curufin remained silent, though Luimëníssë noticed his hands turning to fists.

Artanis stepped forward. "Shame on you, Caranthir."

Caranthir scoffed. "Excuse me, cousin?"

She gave him an icy smile, her hands clasped over her middle. "And other than your brother, what do you treasure more and wish to retrieve above all? Do not deny it, we all are aware of the oath you and your kin took."

Caranthir smiled calmly. "Why should I deny it? Maitimo swore it himself. It was why he was captured because Morgoth falsely promised us the return of the silmaril. He valued the oath over his own life, why shouldn't we do the same?"

Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "You would leave your own brother to death and torture in favor of a stone. You are as monstrous as your father."

The room went deadly still. Celegorm stopped chewing his apple. Even Curufin stepped forward from the crowd. Artanis held her ground. Luimëníssë felt the raw hands of panic grip her insides.

"This coming from a half-breed Noldo? Why are you even allowed to speak here? Your mother's mongrel people were no better than the beasts of this mortal land," Caranthir ranted hotly, his face turning red as he lost his temper. "The Teleri couldn't even defend their own harbors from us as the blood of their women spilled into the sea. As far as I am concerned, the kinslaying was as much their fault as our father's."

No one expected it as Vantaro plowed forward towards Caranthir. Luimëníssë let out a strangled cry. Her brother still held the small knife from earlier in his hand.

"I will cut the cursed mouth from your face, kinslayer," Vantaro screamed as he tackled Caranthir to the ground.

She could not see what happened in the tussle, but heard Caranthir let out a cry of pain that rose to rage. The surrounding elves broke up the fight and got them to their feet, but Caranthir tore himself free. A ragged gash ran from the corner of his mouth up into his cheek. It was deep.

He shoved Vantaro against one of the columns, fists flying as he savagely beat him, holding him up by his collar. Vantaro went limp. Curufin and Maglor pulled Caranthir off of him and shoved the elf towards Celegorm who ushered him out of the room.

"Let me through!" Luimëníssë yelled as she shoved her way through the crowd.

She found Vantaro, beaten bloody and senseless, crumpled on the floor. Her husband stood over him. She pushed Celebrimbor into Curufin's arms and cradled her brother's head, too shocked to even weep.

Ingoldo came forward along with Fingolfin. Her cousin lifted Vantaro over his shoulder with Luimëníssë close behind. As they left the hall, she heard her uncle announce than the meeting was over and they would be told what would happen next.

Vantaro regained consciousness by sunset. His jaw had been broken and he couldn't see out of one eye, it had swollen so badly. But the healer said he would be fine in a few months after some rest. He wouldn't be able to eat solid food though for days and no talking for at least two weeks. He laid silently on his cot in the healer's tent, staring up at the ceiling. Though she could tell he had done his best to be brave, he had still wept without a sound as the healer had reset his jaw.

"Luimëníssë?" Artanis entered the tent. "I am so very sorry."

Luimëníssë sniffed, blinking in the candlelight. "Sorry for what?"

"I- I antagonized my cousin. My actions led to this-"

Luimëníssë shook her head fervently, wiping the dampness from her eyes. "You are not to blame. The only one at fault is the person who struck my brother. And even then," she said, her voice dropping as she rose to her feet and led Artanis out into the twilight. "Even then, it is more my fault. I knew Vantaro was unstable and still I kept him in camp. He should have left from Fingon, no matter their destination."

Artanis squeezed her arm. "You could not have known this would happen. Nor would you have wished for it."

Luimëníssë peered past her friend. The encampment was solemn after the day's events, yet the air was still filled with animosity. She wondered if things might become more hospitable if Maglor admitted what they had done to their kin at Losgar was wrong.

That was out of the question of course, she thought bitterly. Maglor was not a good leader. He was weak. Indecisive. If anyone was to blame, it was him. She decided then that she would never accept him as kin, no matter what occurred. Even if he begged for forgiveness about what he had done to her brother. Not that he ever would. He was too cowardly to even look at her.

"Wife?"

Luimëníssë turned to see her husband setting down their son. He had taken the child after the meeting so she could see to her brother. Celebrimbor walked towards her, his gait becoming stronger and straighter as he drew closer to his fourth birthday. He took her hand and she knelt to his level.

"I saw blood," he said quietly.

"Yes, you did," she whispered.

"On both of them. On both my uncles."

"Yes."

He furrowed his brow. "They did that to each other."

She swallowed past the knot in her throat. She dreaded the day he would find out the kind of family he'd been born into. "Can you go with Artanis and get something to eat?"

Artanis held out her hand to him. Celebrimbor trudged towards her and the two of them made their way to the tent.

"How is he?" Curufin asked without meeting her eyes, his stance rigid and hands clasped behind his back.

"Broken jaw and a badly injured eye."

"Will he see out of it again?"

"The healer thinks so."

"Good."

Luimëníssë sighed. "And your brother?"

"Caranthir will carry a scar from the edge of his mouth and into his cheek for the rest of his existence. Thanks to a child." Curufin scoffed. "It was bound to happen to him someday. He is only livid that it came from one not even close to their twentieth year."

Luimëníssë didn't say it, but it made her glad to hear that one of her kin had damaged a son of Fëanor. Even if she was married to his brother. Albeit unhappily.

"Fingolfin held a meeting with Ingoldo, Maglor and I. We discussed the mood in our separate camps. Fingolfin has decided to remove himself and his people to the southern end of the lake. Fingon reported that the area is safe and ready to be settled. They will leave in two days."

Two days. That meant her dear cousins would depart as well. Vantaro most certainly, there was no way he could remain so close to Caranthir after what had happened. But where did that leave her family?

"Do you wish... would you feel comfortable to..." Curufin's voice wavered for the first time, his dark eyes trained on the lake beyond.

"Wish for what?"

"Would you stay here with me? Stay with our son?"

Luimëníssë cleared her throat. "And be separated from my brother? I am the only family he has left in the world, I don't know-"

"Of course." Curufin cut her off, striding down past her and stopping a few feet off, his back to her. "So where does that leave Celebrimbor?"

Luimëníssë drew a shaky breath, the breeze from off the lake stirring her hair. "I would not keep him from you. I hope you know that."

Curufin paused before answering. "Now I do."

"I want him to be raised by both of us. It's important- imperative to his survival, I believe."

Curufin turned towards her with a frown. "His survival? Why do you speak like that?"

A bloodied banner. Held aloft above a dark host.

Luimëníssë shuddered. "It's nothing. I only know the danger this land holds is much greater than back in Aman."

Curufin nodded slowly, though his eyes showed he did not believe she was telling him everything. "Very well. What do you propose?"

"He may split his time between camps. We can meet on the banks between the north and south end every couple months and he may visit between us."

"You are willing to be separated from him?"

She swallowed past the hurt in her chest. "I must be."

Curufin strode back towards her. "Very well. I will do as you wish. For the sake of our son."

She did not meet his eyes as he stared down at her, the warmth from his body radiating against hers. For a lingering moment, she longed to wrap her arms around him as she would have when they were first wed. His body leaned towards her own till she wondered if he wished the same thing. Then, as swiftly as a candle flame being doused, the moment passed.

Luimëníssë withdrew a step. "Yes. For the sake of our son."

She did not see Curufin again before they departed for the southern end of the lake. Nor for many years following, as Ingoldo and Fingon were the ones to deliver her son to his father at the meeting point between camps.

After decades, it was as though Luimëníssë had never been married at all.