Many thanks to BeaconHill for betareading.

Constellation E.3

The Vingilot was not the only vessel in Aman's great fleet, just the fastest. As the first days after the battle became weeks, ships of silver and gold began to appear on the Western shores of the world. Not only the shores of North America, either—some ships made landfall off the coasts of Ireland, Europe, or Africa. One even appeared in the Indian Ocean and came ashore there.

Earth Bet had to get used to the appearance of Elves and Maiar. It wasn't easy for humans who were used to being the only intelligent species on their world, but it was made easier by the fact that they had more than one world now.

After the frantic evacuations, during which Cauldron had opened portals to dozens of uninhabited and lightly-inhabited Earths, Fortuna had gathered a coalition of Tinkers together. Within a matter of days, they had worked out a way to build permanent, stationary portals, taking the worst of the load off of Doormaker. Travel between alternate Earths was increasingly common, and settlers were starting to explore the frontiers of those Earths whose landmasses were different from Bet's.

Brockton Bay's skyline had been ravaged by Zion's passage, but already it was starting to be reconstructed. It was very different this time, however, as Elven towers of mallorn-wood and mithril rose up among the remaining glass-and-concrete skyscrapers. The same transformation was happening across the world.

Earth Bet was being reshaped. Soon, this entire world would be the central keep, staging area, and mustering grounds of the greatest host ever assembled. The true Last Alliance.

With each ship came more familiar faces. One which I dreaded arrived at the end of the fourth week.

I was in my new workshop, a hybrid of modern nanoforges and printers among traditional furnaces and anvils. Colin and I were working together on the designs for spacefaring vessels, so that we could build up a fleet around the enchanted Vingilot.

The metal door slid open behind me with a faint hum. "Taylor?" came Olórin's voice. He sounded hesitant. "There is someone here to see you."

I turned and was struck dumb.

The new arrival, standing beside Olórin, looked exactly as he had long ago in Eregion, when we had worked together in another forge to create some of the greatest works in the history of Middle-Earth. His eyes were dark and hard as he glared at me.

"Celebrimbor," I whispered.

"Sauron," he growled, stepping forward into the room, knuckles white on his clenched fists.

Olórin winced, but did not speak. Colin had no such compunctions. "That's not her name," he said evenly, turning and looking between me and the Elf.

"If I want your opinion, Man, I will ask for it," Celebrimbor snapped, taking another step towards me. "I hear that you have been forgiven, Sauron, even by those who should know better. Do—"

Colin stepped between us, picking up his halberd where it rested on a table. "That's enough," he said.

"Colin," I said softly. "It's all right. I—"

"You deserve this?" he finished. "Is that what you were going to say?" He turned his head and glanced at me sidelong. "You saved my planet less than a month ago," he said. "You lost Sophia doing it. Now you're helping to plan a war against all of Zion's siblings. You've paid. I don't care what you did to—"

"I tortured him to death," I said hoarsely. "He helped me make the Rings of Power the first time. I repaid him in betrayal, then tortured him to death when he wouldn't reveal the Three. Once he was dead, I strung up his body and raised it as a banner when I laid siege to his people. Colin, I deserve this."

"You bear Narya," Celebrimbor suddenly said. He was staring at Colin's hand.

Colin looked at me for a moment before he turned back to the Elf, and I was staggered by what I saw in his face. There was no accusation there. Only pain, pity, and—did I even dare say it?—acceptance. "Yes," he told Celebrimbor. "And you'll be pleased to know I earned it by fighting her when she started to slide back into bad habits. She has changed. Just look around." He gestured widely around the room, and through the wide windows at the city outside. This forge was high in one of the new towers. I had always liked having a view. "You can't help but see it. She did terrible things. I was there for a few of them. But she regrets them, and she's trying to be better now. I'm not telling you to forgive her, but I am saying that if you want to hurt her, I'll defend her, even if she herself doesn't."

Celebrimbor's face was blank as his eyes drifted from the Ring on Colin's finger up to his face, then over to mine. Then he looked out the window, at the blossoming fleet, glimmering silver in the daylight. A complicated, conflicted expression spread across his face. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

Olórin let out a relieved sigh. "The worst has passed," he said. "It will take him time to come to terms with all that has happened, but he will."

"You seem so certain," I murmured.

Olórin smiled at me. "I have had a long time to know Celebrimbor," he said. "For one of the line of Fëanor, he was never given to rage, hatred, or vengeance."

"I know," I said, squeezing my eyes shut. "He never wanted to hurt anyone. He only wanted to create cunning, beautiful things, and send them out into the world to brighten the hearts of anyone who saw them. And I punished him for that naïveté, Olórin."

Olórin nodded unhappily. "Yes. He did recover in Mandos' Halls and soon enough joined his brethren in wider Aman, but hearing that you had returned, and that you had been accepted… it was difficult for him. But he has seen with his own eyes that you are changed. Now he shall wander the streets of your city and see the results of your works." He smiled at me. "He may never forgive you, it is true. But he may. And he certainly shall not remain furious forever. It is not his nature."

"I hope you're right."

When next I came across Celebrimbor, it was at the Docks. Eärendil had brought the Vingilot into port—he had taken to sailing the seas of Earth Bet with his family as he waited for the fleet to be assembled. Not all of his family accompanied him on every voyage—Elrond and his sons were often busy with the ongoing settlement of the Elves throughout the myriad Earths, integrating them with the existing human societies—but his wife, Elwing, usually accompanied him, as did his youngest two children.

Leviathan was laying belly-up among the waves in the bay, staring up at the sky. The Simurgh—who had, at some point, acquired a pale blue sundress sized for her fifteen feet, with holes cut for her numerous wings—hovered over the mast, eyes wide as she looked around at the transforming city.

My dad was currently directing a crew of dockworkers as they loaded the Vingliot with supplies and trade goods. While he waited, Eärendil had busied himself with carrying priority cargo rapidly between the world's ports, crossing the distances with a speed no mundane ship could match. In between giving orders, Dad was speaking to Eärendil, who seemed to be laughing at a story he was telling. I had a feeling it was about me.

That feeling was redoubled when I saw that another figure was listening in on the conversation. Celebrimbor sat upon the yardarm overhead, one hand on his knee, staring down at the conversation below with furrowed brows.

I swallowed and approached, trying to avoid looking up. Dad turned and grinned at me as I approached. "Hey, Taylor," he said.

"Dad," I said. "Eärendil. I felt my ears pricking—should I be worried about what you're saying?"

The Mariner grinned at me. "Nay, Taylor!" he said with a laugh. "Your father was telling me about an encounter you and your companion, Emma, had with a particularly rude child when you were… what was it?" He glanced at Dad. "Five years of age?"

Dad nodded, chuckling. "I don't know if I remember this," I said.

"I mean, you were very small," said Dad. Then he blinked. "Actually, does that even apply to you?"

I thought about that. "I think so?" I hedged. "I mean, at that point I was still working with a normal kid's brain. They're a little fallible, that young. What did I do, anyway?"

"Oh, the poor little guy was giving Emma a hard time about her hair," Dad said cheerfully. "You scared him so bad they had to get the fire department to pull him out of the tree he'd climbed up to get away!"

Eärendil roared with musical laughter. It took me a moment to realize he wasn't the only one laughing. I glanced up and saw that Celebrimbor was chuckling, too, from his perch high above. I looked away quickly, hoping he had not seen.

"He probably deserved it," I said, shaking my head. I looked at Eärendil. "I only just heard you were back. Are you planning on leaving again tonight?"

He shook his head. "Elwing wished to travel a distance inland in the next few days," he said. "Elrohir shall accompany her while I remain here, seeing to my ship and my children." He smiled upwards at the Simurgh.

I followed his gaze and saw that Celebrimbor was gone. With a sigh, I looked back down at Eärendil. "David is coming by the Bay tonight," I said. "He was hoping to talk to you—and to your children. If they're willing to see him." I glanced up again in time to see the Simurgh's face fall slightly before she looked away. She had been growing increasingly expressive since the battle with Zion, as if she—along with many of the Shards who had fled the field before Zion's death—were learning her way around the rich field of emotion. She still did not speak in words to me, though I gathered she, Leviathan, and Eärendil had developed some understanding, that day when she had collapsed back into Silmaril form to be wielded upon his brow once more.

Eärendil looked thoughtful, if a little sad. "I will speak with them," he said. "At the very least, I will speak with David. Over dinner, perhaps? Your father recommended a house which serves… I believe it was called 'curry?' I would like to try it."

"I'll pass on the word," I said.

I saw Celebrimbor a few more times over the next several days. He lingered outside the PRT headquarters one evening, but made no effort to approach me. I saw him speaking to Battery and Assault the next day. I thought I caught a glimpse of him across the street one morning while I was patrolling the area near Winslow High, currently closed for the summer, but he was gone when I looked again.

It wasn't until a week after I'd seen him on the Docks that Celebrimbor stepped back into my forge. Colin was here again, and Dragon's face was on a monitor on one wall. I didn't realize we had a visitor until Celebrimbor cleared his throat.

I turned. He looked awkward, eyes darting from side to side, one hand clasped over his breast, the other on the hilt of his sword. "Celebrimbor," I greeted softly.

"Taylor," he said. He cleared his throat. "Olórin told me that you had changed," he said. "When I did not believe him, he told me that I would see it. 'By her works shall you know her,' were his words." He squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, he met my gaze steadily. "He was right."

I smiled sadly at him. "I have many, many regrets," I said. "But the fact that I did not appreciate you when we worked together is high among them. We could have been kindred spirits. I always loved the work, the beauty and joy of creation, the same as you. If I had just let myself give up my hate, and my pride, and my need to control… we might have been friends. Instead, I destroyed you. I am so, so sorry, Celebrimbor."

He took a deep breath. "Yes," he agreed. "We might have been true friends." He swallowed, then stuck out his arm. "We missed our chance, then," he said. "We need not now."

I stared at his extended hand with eyes wide. "You don't have to do this," I whispered.

"I respected you greatly as Annatar," he said quietly. "being here, seeing all you have done… it has made me realize that, perhaps, not all that I saw in you then was false. It is easier than I expected, to put aside what of you was Sauron and accept what I see now, and what I remember from the better days."

I reached out and took his hand. Stiffly, he shook it. "This is how Men make contracts now, yes?" he asked. "I saw your father doing so with Lord Eärendil."

I nodded, smiling slightly, a faint, bewildered laugh bubbling up in my belly. "Yes," I said. "Handshakes are a common way of sealing informal deals."

"Then, informally," he said formally, "I may not yet forgive what was done to me… but I can move beyond it. I can, perhaps, see you as someone different from he who did those things to me."

"That is more than I could hope to ask," I said. "Thank you, Celebrimbor."

Suddenly, as if seized by an instinct, he threw his arms around me. "It is good to have you back," he whispered. "My friend."

My restraint gave up the ghost, and I wept like a child in his arms.