The next morning dawned bright and fair. Long after Anar had crested the mountains and shone her full strength upon Ost-in-Edhil Thranduil finally roused himself for the day. At leisure he took care of the usual morning routine and once he was fed and washed he noted the time and took a private excursion through the city. Some time near the approach of noon he ended his walk back at Celebrimbors estate and flagged down a nearby resident for directions to the lords forge. Thranduil had not yet managed to make it through the door however; when he saw the fast approaching form of the elf-lord himself. Celebrimbor gave a hearty cry upon sighting him.

"Thranduil! And right on time! Have you already sent the chest to my workshop?

"No." Thranduil sighed as he suddenly remembered what he had forgotten all morning noting that his walk on the parapet had quite numbed his mind. "I am sorry. I forgot to have it transported."

"No matter - I'll send someone to fetch it now."

Once the issue was resolved Celebrimbor suggested that they take a quick stroll through the premises. And having no better task Thranduil obliged him, noting how proud his host seemed to be of his fortress home.

"It took a great host to bring the rocks this high from the valley - even though we are not that far from the quarry where they were hewn. Most of the stones are granite in varying colors. We chose the lightest of rose colored ones for many of our walls because they cast such a gentle and warm light - and of course they have a high quartz content so they glitter very nicely in the sun. But there are other varieties as well. In fact; my main council-hall utilizes an unusually banded variety of gneiss - "

Thranduil nodded along, listening more out of politeness than interest. But he could not bring himself to entirely suppress the smile that had crept onto his face as he watched Celebrimbor wax poetic about his city - for Celebrimbors pride was deep, yet suffused with a great fondness and even possessiveness of the great home his people had crafted. It was a labor of love for him to watch over Eregion Thranduil soon realized and for a moment his thoughts drifted back to the towering limestone boughs and marbled trunks of Eryn Galens subterranean eden. Would he feel the same when he had become king? More importantly did he feel the same now that he was prince?

Soon enough they reached Celebrimbors startlingly unadorned, but well-lit forge. The heavy chest was set beside a high bench, onto which they unloaded it's contents. In the brightness of day in the white-stone hall the armour seemed darker than a starless night and the faintest of baleful violet glows could be detected. Using the spare star-iron Celebrimbor explained all of the tests he had run - from the metals reactivity to it's hardness to it's ability to handle heat and stress. In all tests he had found the alloy Galvorn to be completely abnormal and unlike anything he had ever seen.

And at the end of his long explanation he gave a heavy sigh. One hand he had on the cuirass, his fingers drumming thoughtfully on the metal.

"To tell the truth prince Thranduil I am most embarrassed to admit that I have been bested in this. I have gleaned some insight into the workings of Eöl's craft; yet I do not understand as much as is needed to re-work this armour in a suitable fashion."

At this admission he folded his arms and his face turned into a scowl directed at the metal mass in question. "I do not believe I have the skill to forge this Galvorn."

Leaning against the far side of the bench, Thranduil exhaled heavily with a breath he had held in nervous tension. With a forlorn look at his treasure he nodded, yet disappointment now weighted heavily on him for he had much desired to see the armour restored to glory - perhaps even enhanced.

"So it is then. I cannot say that I am glad to hear such news, but you have been gracious in the attempt."

Celebrimbor was silent a moment, but then spoke with slow and hesitating words. "If you do not mind a suggestion..."

Thranduil raised his head. "If you have any suggestion I would be grateful to hear it. Please."

"I myself do not have the ability to work this metal; however, I may know someone who might be capable of it."

Gladness came to Thranduil then and he moved quickly around the bench. "So there is still hope? Please, refer me to whoever is needed for this task."

"Of course." Celebrimbor replied, then smiled as he removed himself from the small chair he had taken to. "It seems you are in luck, young prince. Recently there came into my halls a very special guest - it is him who I will refer you to now."

"A guest?" Thranduil wondered. "Then would he be willing to work on an assignment? I would not like to interrupt his holiday."

"He's not here on holiday but business, and has been for several long centuries now. His purpose is to help in situations such as these so fear not - he will at least make an attempt and will likely be glad to do so." Celebrimbor laughed just then, leading Thranduil from the hall and into the courtyard outside.

"In fact, he may leap at the chance - for I know there is no metal in Aman such as this Galvorn either! It will be amusing to see what he makes of it."

Thranduil followed Celebrimbor with relief, feeling now that there was no doubt that he could see his armour restored.

"I have been meaning to ask you though..." Celebrimbor spoke suddenly, turning with unexpected speed on his heel to face his guest. "How did you come by that armour? More pressing yet perhaps, how did it come to be damaged? I could scarcely chip it when I was running my tests - I broke three good blades trying to cut it as well before I gave up I will have you know." The lord said good-naturedly, a mock scowl on his face. "So you owe me an answer in response young elf!"

Thranduil laughed aloud at such playfulness. Yet his smile slowly became diminished, reflective.

"The armour...was my mentor Eöl's, I have heard him now called the 'dark-elf' - though in my honest memories he was a kind; if reclusive, soul. His son has wrought darker works than he."

"Eöl." Celebrimbor whispered. "Is this not the same Eöl who took the life of the lady Aredhel, sister to Turgon, King of the Ñoldor?"

"Yes." Thranduil admitted, his throat tightening with the words. "He is one and the same. For he was trying to kill his son, yet Maeglins' mother was valiant. She saved him at the cost of her own life."

"Pity."

Celebrimbors words were soft but growled, as if a deep well of anger and resentment had been touched at the mere mention of Maeglins name. He strode in silence to a low wall, leaning over it as he gazed out over his proud city.

"Such treachery for so little reason. Such is the curse of the Ñoldor in exile. To betray, and be betrayed. Such is our doom for what our forefathers have done."

The stood in silence a moment before Celebrimbor spoke again, this time turning to catch Thranduils silvery eyes in a gaze with his own deepest ebony.

"So. How did you come to know Eöl?"

"I am from Eryn Galen now; yet my father and I lived before in Beleriand before it was sunk. In the kingdom of Doriath. There we lived until the final days of King Dior."

Silence fell over them.

"Then I gather that I have no need to explain the curse of the Ñoldor to you; for it seems you have been drawn into its web as well. For that I am truly sorry. I-"

And here Celebrimbor hesitated, but shortly he continued. "I cannot change the past. But believe that I am genuine when I say that I do not want to see the tragedy of the past repeated. If there is ever any aid I can give you, please do not hesitate to ask."

Thranduil looked up, face impassive. "And do you do this out of obligation?"

"No." Celebrimbor replied firmly but with a gentleness that was soothing to Thranduils mind. "I do this out of honor. Too much strife has there already been between elven kindred's. Somewhere it must end."

And Thranduil allowed himself a small appreciative smile in return. "So it must."

Below an echoing horn sounded, it's strange and harsh sound echoing from a multitude of rose-pink stone walls; drowning out the clamor of the bustling city before fading away into the hills.

"That's an odd horn." Thranduil noted, peering down toward the massive gate where a mighty host had begun to enter.

"It's a dwarf-horn; from Moria." Celebrimbor replied, a broad grin crossing his face. "And it heralds a feast. The lords of the mines are early this time it seems - ah!" He exclaimed with a laugh. "And there is the reason why! Moria must be more overflowing with riches than even I had supposed, to hire such an expensive sword!"

In confusion Thranduil looked at the hoard as they stamped proudly through the city streets. The banners of Moria crowned above the lesser flags of clans and individuals of great repute fluttered in the strong breeze while the sound of metal shoes on stone echoed with an unearthly ( and to elven ears quite unpleasant ) din high above their waving folds. Among the stern dwarvish faces Thranduil could not discern which ones might have been hired to act as guard - for there were no shortage of gold and silver clinking in hundreds of well braided beards and none had the look of a mercenary. Then Celebrimbor stretched out his hand and indicated a flicker of silver-white near the rear of the formation.

Thranduil felt as if he must have been struck. His breath seemed caged in his throat and his heart pounded for lack of air.

Near the rear of the formation was a tall and lithe figure among the short and cobby mass. Graceful as a willow in the wind with a strength like a steel spring in every step. She - and now as they approached he could unquestionably discern as much - was clad in drab and unassuming garb. A worn leather vest of elvish make over mail of dark-tinted steel. Breaches and tunic were the muted colour of dead leaves in winter but were whole, if patched. Boots of soft and comfortable mud-stained leather trod with a strange lightness on the gray stone blocks of the upward road. But to Thranduil's chagrin her head was hooded and hidden from his view. It was only just as she passed that he could see the snow-white fall of hair from beneath and for a moment he thought he saw the flash of golden eyes.

An unmistakable wanderer and vagabond - a sword for hire.

"Who is that?" Thranduil asked when the breath had returned to his lungs. "that tall elf among the dwarves?"

"That is their bodyguard - she is known to us as Rilma. If she has another name she does not speak it. Rilma is well known in Eregion as a courier; though for the right price she will guard a host though it is very rare. More often she takes messages here or there with great speed. Whatever she is tasked with relaying never goes awry."

"Is an armed carrier necessary?"

"More now than ever." Celebrimbor whispered. "Strange tidings are afoot in this land; though I try to keep my people safe it seems a darkness is drawing ever nearer. Are things not the same in Eryn Galen?" This last was said with a heaviness that echoed the weariness of the elf-lords heart.

Thranduil gave only a fleeting, sharp glance. "Is it not the same upon all of Middle Earth?"

Nodding, Celebrimbor lightly touched the princes arm. "Let us go - we are supposed to be looking for a very elusive creature."

Following behind, though reluctantly, Thranduil asked: "An elusive creature?"

Celebrimbor gave a cheeky wink. "Yes. Let us go quickly - before he knows I am looking for him; else we will never find him!"

Despite Celebrimbors chiding Thranduil soon discovered that his words had not all been in jest - for they spent the greater part of that afternoon searching high and low for their quarry. But at last their quarry was cornered in the great meeting hall. Thranduil entered some time behind Celebrimbor, for he had gotten turned around and was quite worn out from this dogged pursuit. So by the time he entered the pair were deep in conversation; yet it halted the moment he entered. Celebrimbor stood to the right of a stranger with long and slightly curled hair the colour of red gold that seemed to glow with some inner light. It was then that the first flickers of apprehension began, for Thranduil felt a great anxiety well up from within. Deep in the recesses of his memory an image - too fast to catch, flickered in his mind before slipping from his grasp. Celebrimbor however took no note of the princes sudden reserve.

"There you are! I thought we would have to go on a great hunt for you now!"

"I am here; though to leave your hunting partner behind is poor etiquette my lord." Thranduil chided him, having finally caught his second-wind. He hoped that whatever dour expression he must have shown had gone unnoticed

Celebrimbor gave a broad grin. "You handled it well though - I must endure this great effort nearly every day!" At this his eyes flicked to his right where the object of their long search stood, mostly unimpressed by this turn of events.

When Thranduil had entered the strangers back had been to him. But now he turned to regard the new-comer and as he did Thranduil's eyes suddenly met his; and the deep heated gold sent a shock wave through the princes mind like a thunderbolt. Thranduil suddenly recoiled, turning his face away for just an instant. With his eyes closed and no longer subjected to that withering glance the pain subsided and after a moment the sound of Celebrimbors voice was once again able to reach his deafened ears. When next he opened his wary eyes the deep dark pools of Celebrimbors met his.

"Thranduil! Are you alright? What happened?"

"It...it is nothing my lord." Thranduil spoke quickly, regaining his composure once more and effecting an air of indifference, as if nothing had occurred.

"That was not nothing," Came the tense reply as the concerned elf gripped Thranduil by his shoulders. "Please, if anything is wrong just tell me!"

With smooth grace Thranduil lifted his hand and gently opened distance between himself and his concerned host, a soft light in his eyes.

"Thank you for your concern. But really my lord I am perfectly fine. I suppose I have just worn myself out today. I did finish my long journey only yesterday evening."

For a moment Celebrimbor thought, then stood with straightened shoulders. For he sensed that in despite of his concern that his friend was determined to hide the true extent of his troubles. There was little to do but drop the matter entirely.

"If you say you are alright then I will take your word for it. Yet, while you are here in my realm responsibility for your care falls to me. Think of it Thranduil - what would your father say if you came to overwork here under my guardianship?"

And at this a rebellious quirk sprang to Thranduils lips. "My father would say; Good! Someone's putting him to use!"

Celebrimbors sudden laughter echoed in the chamber as the tension broke. After a long moment he shook his head. "Your father is a tough one then!"

Thranduil shrugged. "He is what he is."

Now having steeled himself Thranduil was able to look unwavering upon the stranger who stood before him now and Celebrimbor remembered himself.

"Ah! Now this is who I meant to introduce you to. Thranduil; this is Annatar. He is one of the maiar under Aulë's tutelage and has come here to aid us in our works. His skill far surpasses mine." Celebrimbor noted, a slight embarrassed flush coming to his face. "I have failed to truly grasp the qualities of the metal you brought to me - yet I believe that Annatar may be capable of unlocking its secrets."

And for a moment Thranduil thought to decline; to step away from his own desire to have his armor restored and simply to retreat home to the woodland realm - for the golden maia before him filled the prince with an irrational, but very real dread.

Yet Annatar smiled and gave a polite bow. "I would be glad to help in any way I can if you would allow it."

"Of course." Celebrimbor answered in a way that left little room for subtle evasion. Only an outright denial could be used now and Thranduil up on seeing the contented nature of his host could not bring himself to utter a word of objection.

"And what is this great work you need help with?" Annatar spoke directly to Thranduil who suddenly found himself at a loss for words. for he was very much loathe to speak of his treasure with this uncomfortable stranger.

Yet he could see no reason not to trust Annatar either. The maia was suffused in warm, inviting light and a gentle smile graced his radiant face. But still Thranduils hesitation did not entirely abate.

"It is a suit of armour." Celebrimbor stated conversationally after only a heartbeat, answering for Thranduil so quickly that Thranduil himself would scarcely have had the chance even if he had wanted it.

"An unusual armour made -"

There was a clatter at the entrance and an elf wearing the markings of a Carrier entered in.

"Lord Celebrimbor! I have news from Moria!"

Celebrimbor gave a vexed sigh. "And it seems that duty is calling me again."

Turning he nodded to Annatar. "I can explain my findings to you tonight if that is alright - actually. Now that I think on it there are notes in my forge. If you go there you may read them and also see the armour for yourself. It is a wondrous thing - I do not think even you will come away unfazed. For now though I must attend to the matter of state. I will see you at a later time."

Thranduil held back an undignified cry of protest, and could only gaze on in disappointment as the Lord of Eregion moved toward the door, only calling out over his shoulder.

"Annatar! You will take care of Thranduil will you not?"

From behind him Thranduil heard a softly purred response; "Of course, my lord."

And Thranduil was grateful that the maia could not see him as his eyes looked towards the heavens, imploring for some sort of deliverance.

Yet no help was forthcoming, for if home was far away than Aman was even further.

Authors Notes

Rilma: 'glittering' Quenya.

And now I'm just thinking:

Thranduil: omfg can I go home now?

Celebrimbor: Of course not! It's too dangerous to go alone - take this with you. *gives him Annatar

Celebrimbor: This is going to be awesome!

Annatar: This is going to be amusing.

Thranduil: This is going to be awful...*cries

AAAAANNNDDDD ART! *trots off to deviantart* #needstostopdrawingelves