26. Meetings once in a while
With how things currently were between her and Odin, Narvi did not want to spend time with her brother more than necessary at the family-gathered breakfast and dinner every day in their home. It did hurt that he almost treated her like a child, not as an adult Dwarrowdam who could make her own decisions in life. yes, it was nice that he acted as any brother should do among their race, but sometimes he went too far according to her own feelings on the whole matter.
"Idiotic brother… it is not like I am even doing anything else than talking about historical events with the Elf in the library where people can see us, so why is he making such a fuss about it?"
Narvi knew that the whole story with the "Tight-fisted Elvenking of Doriath" and how greed could lead to death, but not all Elves would be greedy like that royal Elf who lived so long ago, right?
Besides, Celebrimbor was a joy to talk with, he knew so much about places where she had never been to and most likely would never visit due to Dwarrowdams rarely leaving their underground homes. A journey across two realms, such as the offer of being a bride candidate for royalty like she originally had been, generally only happened for Dams in order to bring in new blood and avoid inbreeding, despite that every Dwarf learned from childhood how dangerous it could be to have offspring with a close relative, their ancestors finding this out though breeding of livestock.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
When they met next time in the library, they somehow ended up talking about naming traditions among their races. And since Elves and Dwarves had very different customs when to came to names both among family members and other things, it became a very entertaining conversation.
"Ah ha ha ha ha! Your father tried to give you the exact same name as himself and your grandfather?! What would you have been called, then?" Narvi said after suffering a big laughing fit over something Celebrimbor just had mentioned.
"Nelyacurufinwë, which translates into "Third Curufinwë" in Quenya. But my mother Astarë, paternal grandmother and aunt Maedhros loudly protested against that name, as aunt had been named Nelyafinwë at her birth in spite of being female, as proof of being the heir to my grandfather. And as she also pointed out, it was enough confusion among people with my father and grandfather sharing the same father-name already," Celebrimbor admitted after some moments of silence, his eartips noticeable red in embarrassment over the horror of how things could have been if he really had gotten that father-name. After learning that tale, he had always been grateful for his mother insisting on that his father-name would be Telperinquar, "Silver-fist", because it was far more original than what most of his paternal family had been given.
Narvi laughed again, knowing stories where families sometimes kept reusing names to the point that only nicknames helped others to know which family member it was about.
"And then my mother gave me the name Oronder, which means "Mountain man" in Quenya, because she wanted me to get some form of inspiration for my future craftsmanship as an adult."
A smart woman, who likely wanted her son to not feel chained by what his father and grandfather did. Names did hold some form of power, after all, and in different ways.
"That said, what are your plans for coming here to Khazad-dûm? Exchange of knowledge and ideas, I understand that to be very attractive, right?"
Celebrimbor, unaccustomed as he was to speaking with people wearing a veil, found it necessary to listen to her tone, look into her eyes and trying to read her body language in order to get a perception. Perhaps that was the intended meaning behind the custom of the veil for Dwarrowdams in the East and which had spread to the West over the passing generations? Forcing male relatives and suitors to pay proper attention to them in public without being able to read their faces well?
"You are staring," Narvi pointed out in an almost singing tone, and he could have sworn that she tried hard to not laugh at him for that. Both Celebrimbor and Narvi was unaware of the little spirit child who watched the whole scene from a shelf, smiling while paying a lot of attention to what the Dwarrowdam and the Elf was doing together.
However, soon Celebrimbor also found out that even if he was not one of the main ambassadors, his skills in Khuzdul was often making him a translator between the Elves and the Dwarves in order to avoid misunderstandings simply because of incorrectly pronounced words in one or the other language. After all, Celebrimbor was now one of the few living Elves who actually had mastered a near perfect version of Khuzdul, all thanks to the old alliances his uncle Caranthir and aunt Maedhros had made with the Dwarves of now long-gone Nogrod and Belegost.
"If I was the Lord of Eregion, I would make an edict about learning basic Khuzdul so there would be less trouble," Celebrimbor muttered to himself after yet another meeting where he had been needed as translator. Personally, he would have preferred to visit the forges, to see how the Dwarves worked together to create crafts that was so different from the Elven style.
"My fingers itch to make something!"
He always grew restless if he did not get some forgework done at once every week, and his late mother Astarë had flat out told him to remain in the forge so he did what he enjoyed.
No, this could not go on, he needed to craft something in order to calm himself a little bit.
Even Narvi felt restless, for some reason that she could not explain. Spending time with Celebrimbor felt so… natural, for some odd reason. As it was a very trying time for her whole family, with Frigga and Loki gone in the same night, tensions in the household was bound to be found there between the remaining family members still alive.
"At least Amad and I can do something together when Odin is out on guard duty."
Today they joined together to finish sewing an ordered robe Ala had been working on for the past month. Sewing was not Narvi's specialty and she mostly did it as a way of passing time between her own work as a stonemason, but she was skilled enough to help with basic things.
"I think there is a higher chance of a son-in-law entering the family than a daughter-in-law."
Narvi did not miss the hidden meaning her mother had just spoken. Odin was handsome, yes, but his personality and lack of grace made it uncertain whether he would even be able to woo a Dwarrowdam from the upper classes as he desired. And Dams from the lower classes would find themselves with various choices of suitors as well, not everyone wanted to marry upwards to get a better lifestyle or felt comfortable to leave the social rank of their birth.
Rather, it could very well be Narvi that married first of the two surviving Asar siblings, were there a suitor who won her heart at some point in the future. Right now the mourning period for her grandmother and sister made any courtship impossible, but the chance was still there.
"And what if it does not happen before you join our family in the Halls of the Forefathers?"
Ala smiled sadly, the grey parts in her black braids once again reminding Narvi that her mother was a few years above her 200th year of life. It would be a blessing if she remained with her children for 40 more years at the highest.
"We can celebrate the happy event there, even if not all of us might be present for the wedding here in the living world."
Narvi could see her point. Besides, some Dams only found a spouse late in life, a few even in the twilight years of their lifetime, so it truly was no guarantee for that she, like Ala, would marry young and have children.
"Yes, amad."
On the other hand, Ala had a rough guess of what Narvi could have for taste in a partner. The way her oldest daughter had sometimes been spotted around forges where the blacksmiths worked, both in their hometown in the Orocarni and here in Khazad-dûm, revealed that Narvi was drawn to strong males who could create both practical and beautiful items.
"Oh, dear, my sewing needles are in need of getting sharpened again or it will be difficult to pull them through the fabric easily. Can you be a dear and run down to the forge for me? I cannot leave this robe half-finished like this."
~X~X~X~X~X~X
It felt good to work in a forge again. Celebrimbor was happy over that he had brought a set of working clothes with him, and this made it a lot easier for him to work beside his Dwarven equivalents. he had came at the right time, for there was an order of making new cooking pots and pans for a newly-created household where a bride and her groom would soon make their own home.
"Are you sure that you really are not a Dwarven soul that somehow got lost before birth and ended up struck among the Elves, lad?" one Dwarven smith asked at seeing how precise the Elf was with creating a basic but good frying pan for cooking. Celebrimbor had to laugh about that question, it was hardly the first time someone had said so to him.
"Afraid that I can not tell, but it would be a joy if it was so, because that could explain a lot of my skills!"
A bell was heard being pulled somewhere, showing that there was a new customer outside the forge since the smiths did not want anyone dressed in several layers of fabric to enter the forge area. Not only was it a safety risk if someone's clothes caught fire from a spark, it could quickly become dangerous if that person got burns.
"Ah, here again, miss Narvi?"
Narvi hid a smile behind her veil. She knew that the greeting blacksmith was not flirting with her, only joking about how often she had been spotted in this area before.
"Yes. My amad needs her sewing needles sharpened again."
Somehow, he did not really know how, but Celebrimbor got the task as the Dwarven smiths wanted to see more of his skills. And his short-sleeved tunic did nothing to hide how strong his arms were, something Narvi did not fail to notice.
"He sure is a lot stronger than what his Elven clothes seems to hint…"
She had seen how the Elves from Eregion mostly dressed in loose-fitted clothes, often with long sleeves. Sure, she had seen the She-elves nude when she had been in the bath houses on both her visits there, yet she had never gotten a chance to see the males undressed to see the differences to Dwarven men. So to see Celebrimbor like this, in a manner that could almost be called partly undressing as he wore only the pants and tunic to the leather boots and gloves, was a secret delight for her curiosity.
Then she spotted something else.
"Use a proper hairpin to keep your hair away from your face."
Pulling out one of her own hair pins made of iron from her baid, Narvi quickly fixed Celebrimbor's high ponytail into a bun.
"Ah… thank you?" Celebrimbor wondered in surprise at feeling her hands on his head, only now realizing that his hair was slowly getting loose.
"You can return it later when you have gotten some hair pins for yourself to avoid getting your hair on fire, master Elf," Narvi responded, and suddenly smacked his rear, causing Celebrimbor to straighten up by the pain, much to the amusement of the Dwarven smiths who witnessed it all.
"You sure that you do not want that Elf as a pet to teach obedience, miss Narvi?"
"I do not think I would make a very good pet, smelling of soot and other things from the forge," Celebrimbor managed to smile, understanding that they were only joking, still surprised by how strong Narvi's palm had been. If she, a Dwarrowdam, was this strong then he would be delighted to work with a Dwarf in some project one day in the future. Most likely a male Dwarf, for he doubted that a Dam would not be allowed to spend too much time with a male that was not only from a different race, and also not a blood relative of some kind.
Oh well, he could not see what his future held and that was something Celebrimbor had never wanted, anyway.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
Author note:
Given that Fëanor gave Curufin his own father-name since they were so similar in physical resemblance, I think it is not impossible that poor Celebrimbor was nearly made the third Curufinwë, but that the family had enough with the confusion between the two and refused the baby to be named like that.
Celebrimbor's mother-name is never mentioned by Tolkien, so I personally chose Oronder which means "Mountain man" in Quenya, as an unknown foreshadowing of his friendship with the Dwarves here in the Second Age
I headcanon that the souls of Dwarven children are "born" into the living world as spirits when both parents have been born, and starts being visible for the Dwarven priests when the future parents meets for the first time. So while Celebrimbor and Narvi have no idea that Frëja is their future half-Elf, half-Dwarven daughter, her soul was already present here in the Second Age as proof of their future love and marriage