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Title: Baubles, trinkets and short scribbles (#4447)
Author: Rhapsody
Chapters: 2

Archive: Tolkien
Category: The Silmarillion
Description: Celegorm and the world around him: How did he interact with it? What did he learn and what would he regret? This story serves as a frame tale (story-within-a story) that will offer short vignettes that explores the world according to Celegorm. This is a collection of ficlets, written for Back To Middle-earth Month 2011. They have nice stamps and passports, I caved (who is to say that only Fëanorians cave in for shinies?).
Published: 16 Nov 2012
Updated: 16 Nov 2012
Warnings: mature themes
Type: Drama
Characters: Celegorm; Nerdanel


Chapter 1 - The Thought

Summary:
That the relationship between Fëanor and Nernadel had its ups and downs is no secret, but what kind of impact did it have on their third son?

Written for B2MEM11 day 3: Vinyamar. The challenge to write:
Some people have difficulty embracing changes and moving on. Write a story or poem or create artwork that shows the consequences of refusing to change.

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Nerdanel also was firm of will, but more patient than Fëanor, desiring to understand minds rather than to master them, and at first she restrained him when the fire of his heart grew too hot; but his later deeds grieved her, and they became estranged.
The Silmarillion - Chapter 6 Of Fëanor and the Unchaining of Melkor




All that remained on the courtyard was silence: none would dare to venture outside except for him. It had become a habit he found hard to shake off, to remain outside, not wanting to be in the house once his parents realised the stupidity of yet another fight about small and insignificant matters.

This time however, everything was different. Oh they had argued, but not with the passion and zest all of his family were used to observe.

This time there had been no slamming of doors, no pottery smacked to the ground… just two silent persons observing another, calmly, perhaps too reserved. His mother had packed her belongings an hour ago: her face stern and unmoving. His father watched her go with that smile lingering on his lips with the same knowledge that he as her son held close.

She always came back.

She always forgave her husband and things turned back to normal. Always.

It never took long before she returned with a smile with her coffers unpacked, telling how much she missed her children, the fussing over us, showing how much she had missed them in her own way.

He would be waiting for her return knowing that fleeting moment he would be the centre of her world, being her child as well. She would wrap her warm arms around him, he would smell her familiar scent and the tell-tale ruffle through his hair would follow soon after that: that very thought he refused to let go.


Chapter 2 - Rolling in the Deep

Summary:
On board of a swan ship, Celegorm is isolated from his brothers and father. As he deals with the aftermath of his first battle as a man changed, his fate is sealed.

A piece written for Back to Middle Earth Month 2011. Written for Day 5: Menegroth - Write a story or poem or create artwork that will illustrate the consequences of isolation.

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Therefore it came into the hearts of Fëanor and his sons to seize all the ships and depart suddenly; for they had retained the mastery of the fleet since the battle of the Haven, and it was manned only by those who had fought there and were bound to Fëanor. And as though it came at his call, there sprang up a wind from the north-west, and Fëanor slipped away secretly with all whom he deemed true to him, and went aboard, and put out to sea, and left Fingolfin in Araman.
The Silmarillion: Chapter 9 Of the Flight of the Noldor

~*~

There's a fire starting in my heart,
Reaching a fever pitch and it's bring me out the dark,

All he wanted was the quiet: no sounds, no smell of blood, no the feel of a blade cutting his flesh. With a snarl he had let everyone know that he wanted to be alone and they let him be. Here in this isolated spot on board of the swan ship he wondered if he should be alone as his skin started to itch.

The bandage around his hands and arms could not hide the smell of crusted blood, the now quiet waves could not drive away the screams of agony in his ears. He felt so tired, so weary and fever-ridden, and the sea seemed to call out to him as if it would take away all that violated his senses and put out this fire that still raged on inside him.
He knew, this could not go on, even the slightest thought of that massacre felt as if he would balance on the fragile cord that was his sanity, he could either jump or cut ties with his guilt, to tuck it away as if he did not kill so many during the insane battle.

He could silence it or himself by throwing himself into the sea: to roll into the deep, joining his body with the tears spilled and those fallen.

Finally, I can see you crystal clear,
Go ahead and sell me out and I'll lay your sheet bare,
See how I'll leave with every piece of you,
Don't underestimate the things that I will do,

Yet he knew, oh he knew that he was needed: his father, his brothers and his people who he had dragged into this all: Foresworn to the everlasting darkness if he would cower. If he could show that he had pulled himself together, to simply tell himself that this never happened, to tuck away this dark memory into the corner of his mind. To be honest: what would the alternative achieve? There was no turning back: he would not surrender himself that easily. What leader could he be if he washed ashore lifeless? If it all took was to bury this, to not speak or mention; to not look back and only think of tomorrow, he would gladly take it. It was time: time to move on. To heal and forget, to claim what was rightfully theirs.

There's a fire starting in my heart,
Reaching a fever pitch and it's bring me out the dark...


End Note:
Rolling in the Deep is a song by Adele that fully inspired this piece. The lines in italics are the starting lines of her song.
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