[Durelin]

“Nothing would allow me more pleasure at this moment, Celebrimbor.”

There was something so familiar in Narisiel’s voice when she spoke that the elf-lord was warmed to the heart. All the tension he had felt before she gave her answer was released in an explosive feeling of happiness, and the confusion and uncertainty that had been apparent on his face before were replaced by a smile. Remembering how he had felt this day would turn out, his spirits were raised to a new height by what seemed to him to be a fulfillment of his premonitions. Celebrimbor caught Maegisil’s eye, as the other elf was looking upon his lord with a smile of his own, and saw that his counselor was thinking along the same lines. And perhaps there was a slight look of ‘I told you so’ in his eyes, as well.

Then, as he brought his eyes to look at Narisiel, his demeanor stiffened, the graveness of what he was about to say, as well as the awkwardness for him, taking away his smile. “Narisiel…” He paused, receiving a good feeling from using her name again in speaking to her. “From my heart, I apologize to you, for my error. For my many errors.”

The elf-lord dropped his gaze, feeling all of his shame return from the day so long ago, when the deception had first become clear. In his pride, and in his blind desire to create, he had not considered the consequences of what he was about to make, nor did he wonder what was behind the plans or ‘Annatar.’ He, the Lord of the Mirdain, had been utterly deceived, perhaps to the destruction of him and his people.

Narisiel knew his shame, and tried to ease his worries, as she had always done when they were close friends, working together in the forge. “We were all wrong, Celebrimbor. The blame does not lie just on you. It lies particularly on me, as well.”

She stopped, seeming only to pause, but Celebrimbor would not hear anymore, as he was more than convinced that he was the only one to blame. His mind and his heart were filled with sorrow and guilt, and he was unable to consider that anyone else could be responsible for this. “No, no it doesn’t. I am the Lord of my people, and I should have had the safety of my people in mind before I took any action. I have been very selfish.”

The elf woman sighed, knowing the lord’s way of taking blame, taking more responsibility than was really his. Maegisil knew this, as well, as he had seen his lord sit for hours in thought, and then speak only to say how much he had failed. At times like these, he did not know what to say. He felt as confused as he did sometimes when his wife would become suddenly sad. Now, he found himself speaking.

“Please, listen to Narisiel. It is time you both spoke your minds.”

Sighing, Celebrimbor ran a hand through his flowing dark hair, and then looked to his counselor with a small smile, glad that Maegisil had left out any ‘my lords.’ He then turned back to Narisiel, his features smoothed, and his voice calmer when he spoke.

“Forgive me, my friend,” he said, then, bringing both his hands up to his face, he ran them down across his eyes and his cheeks, as if he were wiping tears away, though neither his eyes nor his skin glistened. “I simply cannot explain to you what I have felt these many years.”

Celebrimbor began steeling himself for the conversation that he knew he had begun, finding it harder to face the past than ever in the presence of his old friend. It was as if those ghosts of remembrance had followed her to the palace and into this very chamber, when before they had merely hovered just within the boundaries of his mind. They were easier to deal with when they were mere, abstract thoughts. But now they were brought to life in his mind, heart, and his very soul, as if he were reliving them. He could not bear that, knowing now what he had not known then.