I do not own Valinor, the years of the Trees, or Finwe and his family. I did however create all the characters you see here save Glorfindel and Erestor. I also don't own Elrond who is mentioned. I however, make no money from this. So please don't sue me and just enjoy. :)

Over the next few hours all his older sisters and his mother, then even his father, brothers, and youngest covered lightly in dust from their work in stone paused to look in through the open door of his room. He glanced back into their wide eyes, sighed, and introduced them to his guest. All smiled and welcomed the ellon he had insisted to all of them he did not wish talk about. Narkal only left several hours later after they discussed dozens of his drawings.

Curuteith collapsed upon his bed after seeing the student of Feanor out. No one ... not his father, not his brother, not his sisters or any of their relatives or friends had more than perhaps a dozen kind words for the sketches he filled his room with. That was one reason he kept his door closed. So odd was the experience of having another impressed even obsessed with his work, he could not tell the future from here. He admitted though he had enjoyed the hours of discussing the details successes of making each angle equal and each line as fine as those he meant them to match, and how well this or that object might appear if made to as perfectly match his assembled lines. He glanced at the broach displayed in the box on the table next to his bed. He sighed at its beauty. Who knew what the future held.

. . .

Erestor sighed thousands of years later for a different reason. Glorfindel continued "You really mean to tell them nothing?"

"I could say little to comfort. I would have to explain much to Elrond. You know he thinks me Doriath Sindar a counselor to Melian and Thingol."

"You have always 'looked' like a Noldo."

"Some Teleri have darker hair and some married and had children with Noldor before the latter crossed the sea."

Glorfindel sighed. "They will have guilt if anything happens to you."

"They will have more and longer if I tell them of all this before I go as soon as I go."

"Wondering is also an uneasy burden."

"Not as heavy as the hard truth in this instance though."

Glorfindel frowned, but Curuteith as he was feeling more and more these days knew this was him wordlessly admitting defeat. "And what if something happens to you on the way. You know it is a dangerous journey."

Erestor's silence became deeper as he bowed his head and stared through his blanket before replying. "I beg you if that happens to bury me, or whatever of me you can find, and continue on and deliver my confession to my once heart-brother. You are wise, and discerning, and unlike me friendly. I have also heard it said and witnessed you being gentle with those you respect who are suffering. I trust you to tell him the truth, though you will probably be kinder to me than you should."

"I will tell him nothing but pain, save perhaps jealousy, can so quickly call evil acts out of a usually gracious heart. And were you were not jealous of the blood they shared when only friendship and love bound him and you?"

Erestor had lifted his gaze and continued in silent though a long heart-beat as Glorfindel waited for his reply. It came softly when it did. "I think love and friendship can sometimes be better than blood ..."

. . .

Curuteith kept the careful neuatral expression he had learned a long time ago at his parents parties in his home and had worked even harder at when it was they who attended another's part. Otherwise, he would have scowled. Narkal's brothers had come from a visit in Feanor's home and were full of praise for Maedhros, Maglor, and especially Feanor's silmarils. Oddly though he listened closely he caught little reference toward Feanor's younger sons save in jest and little toward Feanor himself. Everytime the latter was brought up Narkal's jaw clenched. He caught Tarman glancing at the old student of Feanor's and seeing this a time or two, and his own face and form tighten upon noticing, but then a younger brother would ask him for his opinion and he'd be smiling and answering like nothing was wrong.

He glanced at Narkal still standing by the fireplace listening with his gaze on the flagstones. How long before they could escape back down to the family's forge and continue their work. He'd been relieved at how little they'd been interrupted the past few months the others had been away. Only his friend's parents had interrupted them to come and eat and he'd gotten to know not only the lovely Vanyar lady who'd brought him in not long ago, but the father who had taught his friend his craft even before Feanor and asked if not as many questions as Narkal about their work asked at least half as many and thus was the other soul so interested in his designs. He had felt like gratified and indeed been barely to his own home often sleeping over in a guest room when the exhaustion of thinking through, talking through, and assisting at times with the crafting of Narkal's work based on his designs finally wore his strength out which was not often since it usually invigorated him for long periods instead. He liked Narkal's parents almost as much as he favored Narkal himself, but he could not say the same for his brothers.

Upon first seeing him, Tarman had grinned and given a slight bow. Rombar had smiled more gently and given a deeper bow setting his golden hair toward the floor before straightening again. The twins had both swept him an up and down stare before looking to their beaming embracing eldest brother and relaxed. Ascarant had laughed and said, "What while we were gone the sour cold-visaged Curuteith truly came to call upon our house?" Tarman had sent him a scowl before interjecting, Feonor, Maglor, and Maedrhos had all asked after Narkal. The other sons of Feonor and his wife and father-in-law had probably only not done so since they had been in the presence of those who did while they were asking.

Narkal's smile had fallen somewhat as he stated his hope his brother had assured him he was well. Tarman said he'd relayed his new interest in using Curuteith son of a famous stone-smith in Tirion, here he nodded to Curuteith, design's inhis crafting and Mahtan and Feonor had both shown interest and asked more questions he had not been able to answer.

Curuteith noticed a softening in his fellow artist's features at the mention of Mahtan and their hardening along with a dangerous flash in his eye's at the mention of the king's son. Curuteith also thought Narkal's face seemed to turn to the stone his own family used in their craft while Rombar spoke of how he and Maglor were struggling to write the perfect song in praise of the silmarils. Despite so many saying there were no words adequate to speak or sing about Feanor's greatest creation, they could not stop themselves from trying. Rombar then admitted mostly he sat and listened in silence as Maglor tried.

The twins after staring at him and then glancing at their oldest brother relaxed and began speaking of a hunt they had been on with Celegorm and how he had complimented them on keeping up with him and how splendid Huan the Hound of Valinor was to ride and hunt beside. Ascarant had more jokes to throw in about the event that made the twins give him hard stares he pretended not to notice.

Curuteith glad he had left some of his drawing down in the forge-room asked if Narkal might see him down to retrieve them before he left for home. Narkal nodded and he swore he saw softening in his features and eyes of relieve as they turned away and into the hall. As they went down the stairs upon closing the doors behind them, he said "I would have thought your brother's might ask more of you and home upon spending such time away."

"They are always excited to tell me what they did with Finwe's kin, and I cannot say I blame them. It is no small thing to be friend's with the family of the king."

"No, I suppose it isn't."

He studied Narkal's drooping features as he reached for the papers on his desk. "I can stay longer if you wish."

Narkal smiled a little like this though the light of the expression barely reached his eyes. "No, mellon nin, no ... I should concentrate on them for a time. I will be glad to have design after design to work with down here soon after though."

Curuteith nodded.

What do you think now?

God bless

ScribeofHeroes