#It's Adar's turn to struggle with something now. They both get a chance to do that. Question is - what is the uruk struggling with? Hmmm.

[greenleaf4stuff]

In Convenience - Chapter 2, part 1

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience" and "In Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage to marriage of love AU, post story snippet 2, part 1. The elves and the uruk are planning to celebrate the victory over their opponent, the newfound peace – and the marriage between Adar and Celebrimbor. The couple in question, albeit an important part of the festivities, has not been consulted about this. One concern brought to their attention is the wedding attire.

I consider this chapter works as a companion piece to chapter 1 in a sense. This part has Celebrimbor trying to be a helpful, supportive husband - in more ways than one.

Adar was scowling.

Celebrimbor supposed he should have gotten used to that by now, considering Adar’s resting, expressionless face could often be mistaken for a scowl, but in this instance it was indeed a proper one.

The reason for it was definitely unusual, however.

By now, it had become clear that neither the elves nor the uruk would be satisfied with Adar and Celebrimbor just being married – it seemed everyone wanted to commemorate the recent victory over Sauron with grand celebrations, and had decided to combine this with wedding festivities that 'befitted their station' and 'properly showcased the importance of the union between them'.

Without consulting the married couple in question, of course.

The elf sighed; he understood the sentiment, he really, truly did. He’d been the one fretting over Adar and himself having wedding rings, after all. He did like the thought of everyone in the elven kingdoms acknowledging that he and Adar were not just upholding a political marriage anymore, but that they had come to care for one another. That their union had great significance not just for the peace, or their people, but for themselves as well.

And yes, perhaps he did want to show Adar off a little bit, too. He couldn’t help it. He found the uruk very handsome and loved him dearly.

The thing that bothered the elf was the expectancy of the sheer magnitude these festivities. Elves from all over Middle-earth would be invited to come to Ost-In-Edhil, nevermind that the uruk would surely also wish to partake in the celebrations – and would not care about merely sending dignitaries or heralds.

No, they would want to celebrate the peace and their Lord Father’s fortune with everyone being present.

With everything else going on in Celebrimbor’s life, and Eregion as a whole, this promised to be a massive headache. Wedding plans had never been of particular interest to him, and yet now, every single person wanted his opinion on every little thing.

And then, there was Adar, who had looked rather put upon when the first questions about flower arrangements and color choices had emerged. Celebrimbor could only wish to have a glare half as effective as his husband; perhaps in that case, he too would have been left in peace after the initial rounds of questioning.

Alas – now they only came to him, and left the task of consulting Adar for his opinion up the elf.

Which was the reason for Adar’s current...grumpiness.

"They want me to wear a robe?" Adar scoffed. "But why? My armor is perfectly adequate and has been serving me well all these past centuries. Why would I exchange it for a fancy piece of fabric?"

The elf sighed. "It’s- customary. And I suppose they thought you might like to wear one for our wedding celebrations. Use the chance to dress up a little for the special occassion."

Adar blinked. His initial scowl was slowly changing into a look of incredulousness, thankfully. Celebrimbor understood his misgivings; after having spent hundreds, nay, thousands of years with his children, the uruk had to be quite unused to, or even uncomfortable with, being without his armor. Nevermind exchanging it to wear velvets, silks and finery.

The uruk mirrored Celebrimbor’s thoughts. "Dress up? A robe would only leave me vulnerable."

The elf shrugged. He himself was perfectly fine with Adar wearing whatever he wished for the celebrations ahead. Truth be told, he was not particularly looking forward to letting himself get adorned with jewels and finery either. He might be a smith that worked with rare metals and precious stones, but that didn’t mean he had a perchant for wearing them himself.

"As I said, it’s customary," he repeated with an apologetic expression, and then tried to smile encouragingly at Adar. "But you don’t have to do it, of course. Though, if it’s because you don’t want someone to take your measurements, you could try on a few of my robes instead; I am sure I have one or two in dark blue that would suit you rather well, come to think of it-"

He went over to his wardrobe as he said this and began to rummage through his clothes. Adar remained quiet behind him as the elf pulled out different garments, held them up to the light, and then put some back while keeping others draped over one arm.

"I appreciate the thought, Tyelpe. But you needn’t trouble yourself," a hand found its way onto Celebrimbor’s shoulder. "I will wear my armor, and that will be the end of it."

There was something in the uruk’s tone that the smith couldn’t place.

He turned back to Adar, a couple of robes in his arms, to look at his husband. The other had a strangely troubled look in his eyes as he glimpsed at the garments, before his gaze moved up to the elf’s face again.

How odd – the day so far had actually been going rather well; they had finally gotten the forge cleaned up, Adar’s children had proper sun tarps now, and the peace talks were just about finished.

And yet, here his husband was, throwing the clothes in Celebrimbor’s arms a look as if their very presence pained him.

The elf blinked, and quickly went over to the bed to deposit his clothes there, before he strode back to Adar. Standing in front of him, the elf placed his hands on the uruk’s elbows. The smith waited until Adar caught his eyes before he spoke.

"I can see that this topic of conversation seems to upset you. And while I do not know why, I will not press you for it. Just know that if you truly do not wish to wear robes or jewelry for our wedding, that is perfectly fine, and I will support you in that decision."

He took a moment to search Adar’s eyes. His next words were said empathically. "It was not my intention to trouble you with my offer."

He could see Adar still in response to his words. The uruk took a deep breath and looked to the side with faraway look, before he visibly deflated. His hands found Celebrimbor’s lower arms and squeezed them gently.

"It is no trouble at all. Thank you for offering," he seemed to search for words, and his eyes didn’t find Celebrimbor’s again when he spoke up once more. "I suppose the day has been more strenuous than I expected. Perhaps we might discuss this matter at another time?"

There was something there that Adar wasn’t telling him, the smith was sure, but it didn’t feel like it was a secret worth pursuing at this moment. He hoped the uruk would tell him of his own accord instead, whenever he was ready.

So he nodded, and smiled once more. "Of course," he said softly, and then began tugging at the uruk’s arm. "Come, it’s almost time for the next meal. I think it will be good to get some food into us – I’m starving."

The other returned Celebrimbor’s smile, and let himself be lead along to the entrace of the elf’s private quarters.

Though, truthfully, it was more accurate to say that they had slowly become their shared quarters over the course of the last few weeks.

Whenever Adar didn’t remain in his children’s camp to overlook their work, he spent the nights in these chambers with the smith. The two of them would often hold one another in bed while sharing how their day had gone, or read, or do...other things.

For that reason, it seemed hardly fair to consider these only Celebrimbor’s quarters anymore.

"Very well. That sounds like a good idea," Adar agreed as he followed the elf.

However, just as they were about the close the door behind them, the elf could see the uruk throw a backwards glance towards Celebrimbor’s bed. It was done too quickly for the Lord of Eregion to remark on it, and he was far too glad about how his husband’s mood had improved to ponder it for long.

[elvenmaidennalin]

Do You Remember?

Legolas walks beside me, we both move in a way that no one would ever mistake us for human. “Do you remember the first time we met?” It almost makes me laugh, but laughing doesn’t come easy to me anymore. “Yes,” I said with a hum of amusement. 

Legolas looks over me steadily before looking away. “I..I was thinking of it. I think of it often actually,” he admits.

“It was memorable,” I tease him.

Legolas grows quiet but his pace never hastens him past me and we fall into silence together. “You were something out of stories adar used to tell me. Wild and part of an age gone by.”

I blush ever so slightly, to say he’s never spoken of me in such a way before was an understatement even if there was nothing outlandish in his words. “I suppose I am, like you, we’re not for the age of men.” “No, but your kind has returned, it’s almost like you came here to give them a bit of magic in their world still while my kind leave from the Grey Havens.”

I’m not sure where he’s going with this, so I simply turn my head to look at him and the tips of his ears go ever so slightly pink.

“I think I was afraid of you,” he utters.

I blink, taken aback. “Of me?” I ask carefully. “Of me using my voice on you?”

“No, of you.” Legolas clarifies, well, attempts to, I’m still at a loss. “I knew if you asked me, I would have followed you anywhere that night.”

“You did in a way,” I tease him gently again but the balance is off between us with his words.

“I didn’t want anyone to have that much power over me,” Legolas says, brushing off the tease. Usually he at leasts is patient with my playful attempts but he has something to tell me and I fall silent, waiting. “I did the only thing I could think of, I put up a wall and I hoped you’d never get over it. It...worked a little too well.” He was struggling for words and as his steps stop, so do mine. “I watched you fall in love with the eventual King of Dale, you slipped through my fingers and yet, I didn’t worry because I selfishly thought his life was but a blip in what you and I experience, that I would still have time to love you and I could be patient.” 

My blush deepens and I tilt my head to glance up at him. “I ..don’t understand, what you’re trying to say.” I’m unsure if he’s confessing feelings or just wanting to talk through his turmoil.

“I don’t know if I understand either.” Legolas admits. “But what I am trying to say is that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I was so afraid, and I’m sorry you’ve been so sad and that I let you slip away.”

I part my lips and at first no sounds comes forth. “It’s alright, Legolas.”

“It’s not, but, I would like to show you that I can be better, if given a second chance, Nalin.” He surprises me again, this time he brings his hand up to brush back one of my wayward curls. It’s intimate, he rarely touches me, he’s an elf, I’ve never expected him to break boundaries for me but he is now, and his fingers linger on the curl while our eyes lock. Part of me is filled with hope, another part dread. One thing he said is true though, our lives...our existence, I wouldn’t have the pain of losing him to time. Could I love him as I wanted to before?

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience 10.3

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 10th snippet, part 3. Celebrimbor has to confront his fears - and the one who took his city from him. The smith’s interference might just be the thing that decides the outcome of the final battle against Sauron for everyone.

There is some hinted past Celebrimbor/Sauron in this one.

Warnings for blood, graphic violence (bleeding wounds, choking), background and major character death, Sauron doing Sauron things and saying Sauron things. Okay, this is it, the final confrontation – I cannot believe we’ve made it this far. There is one more part to snippet 10 to go after that though, because this fight actually got longer than I had anticipated. I originally planned for 3 parts and max 7.5k words *stares at her wordcount* well… that did not work out. (It’s actually closer to 10k for all of part 10. Oops?) Anyway – enjoy!

Celebrimbor did his best to sneak up the staircase to his forge, even though he felt as if his heart was beating loud enough that it would surely give him away. This, he realized, was it – the moment they had all worked towards, and the moment in which he would have to face his own fears.

Clutching the sword in his grasp, he finally reached the top of the stairs, and chanced a glance around the open door and into the forge proper.

It was clear that the area had been turned into an active battlefield, albeit a less-than-ideal one. Various tools and bits of debris were laying about, even some of his scrolls and sketches had found their way to the floor, torn or ripped. Shelves and tables were overturned, the roofing was clearly damaged, and between all of that were blood splatters, splinters and dust.

With dread, Celebrimbor caught sight of more dead bodies. Judging by their clothes, more of the Eregion guards – and some of his former apprentices. Once again, Celebrimbor squeezed his eyes shut and averted his face, briefly, as he forced back the tears that threatened to rise.

He’d honor them and make sure they were given a proper burial, once all this was over. But he could not mourn the dead while there were still the living that he could – had to – protect.

When he managed to open his eyes again, Celebrimbor quickly took in the scene before him.

His friends were strewn about the room in various states of exhaustion and injury. From Gil-Galad using Aeglos to keep himself on his feet, to Elrond who had been seemingly thrown into a wall and was struggling to get his feet under him, Galadriel who clutched her upper leg which bled sluggishly from a long cut, to Adar who was bleeding from both his upper arm and his thigh as he was locked into exchanging blows with-

him.

He, who looked to be distressingly unharmed, even unfazed, in the midst of all this chaos and destruction. Sauron still carried his appearance as Annatar, long golden hair and black robes only lightly covered in dust. He was turned away from where Celebrimbor was, but in the tone of his voice, the elf could practically hear the wide, self-assured smile of the fallen maia.

"Face it, Adar," the Deceiver gloated, and pushed the uruk back with a kick to the sternum, causing Adar to stumble backwards and fall heavily. Sauron had ripped Adar’s dark iron sword – the reforged crown of Morgoth – from his grasp, and now tossed it behind himself carelessly.

The blade bounced off of the floor in a wide arc due to the force with which it had been thrown, and ultimately came to a halt where Celebrimbor had hidden himself behind the door. Right at his feet.

He stared at the blade, unsure if this was a coincidence or if something else was at work here, until Sauron’s words pulled him out of his frozen state again and made him reach down to grab the sword, exchanging it for this own, which he sheathed.

"Your first attempt on my life didn’t kill me, what made you think the second would be more successful? Celebrimbor fleeing my grasp might have set me back, but it’s only a matter of time till I regain a hold of him and finish the rings."

"And then, finally, I can heal middle earth from its ails, just as I had intended to do with you. Sadly, you lacked the belief – and the vision."

The words made Celebrimbor’s blood boil. He’d heard and seen plenty of Sauron’s plans, enough that he could guess that the maia might indeed be believing his own lies. Certainly enough to know that whatever ‘healing’ he intended to perform, it would spell misery for everyone in not just middle earth, but all of Arda.

To hear him making these claims was in infuriating, but Celebrimbor hated most of all how this fiend was standing over Adar and talked to him as if he were a mere worm under Sauron’s feet. Adar, who cared about his children and truly wanted to make middle earth a better place for them – and, as the alliance had shown, for the other races as well.

"But you won’t be here to see that," words that made Celebrimbor seize up, and then look into the room in a blind panic. Adar, for his part, was not crawling backwards and away, but stared his former tormentor right in the face as the other walked up to him, undoutably to deliver the killing blow.

Unafraid and defiant and so, so beautiful.

‘I cannot let him die,‘ Celebrimbor thought desperately.

He didn’t even make the conscious decision to slide from his hiding place, dark iron sword brandished in both hands as he sprinted over to where Sauron was bending down to get a hold of Adar.

Out of the periphery of his eye, he could see the moment Adar caught sight of him, how the uruk’s expression changed to one of pure spite to one of surprise, then fear.

The smith had enough of a mind not to scream like a madman, and this perhaps was the reason he got as lucky as he did, swinging the sword – and embedding it into Sauron’s right shoulder.

The impact of the blow rattled him, for indeed he was not a commander like Galadriel or a seasoned fighter like Adar, but he had managed to strike the maia nonetheless. Black blood burst from the deep cut he’d made; not deep enough to kill the other, but harm had been done.

As Celebrimbor quickly realised with a surge of fear, this meant the other would now be aware of him. But mixed in there was the relief of having saved his husband from getting killed, even as Celebrimbor stumbled backwards, leaving the sword to stick out of Sauron’s flesh.

The maia briefly remained locked in place, as if surprised, before he rose to his full height again. The smith could hear Galadriel gasp as she locked eyes with the smith, and he saw Ereinion helping Elrond back to his feet, but both their expressions were ones of shock and worry as well.

Adar, who hadn’t seemed to hold the slightest bit of tepridation in regards to his own safety, had grown even paler than usual.

And then, Sauron had turned around. The sheer hatred that rolled off of him came to an abrupt halt as he laid eyes on Celebrimbor.

For a moment, everything seemed to come to a standstill. The terror inside Celebrimbor was so perfect, so complete, so all encompassing that it filled every part of him, and he could not avert his eyes as he saw Sauron’s expression change from recognition to utter, obsessive glee.

Before the elf could do more than take another step back, Sauron had shot forward, and in two long strides, he managed to grab Celebrimbor by the throat and lift him up into the air. The sword in his shoulder seemed inconsequential to him, so focused was he on the smith in his hold.

As the elf grasped for the other’s hands in attempt to keep himself from getting choked, he could hear Gil-Galad shouting in rage from where he stood, but Celebrimbor’s eyes would not leave Sauron. Despite the elven rings, who he suspected had protected all of them from having their minds twisted by the Deceiver, he could not make himself look away.

Once, he had considered the face before himself fair – a face worthy of an emissary of the valar, matching the graciousness and generosity he thought to have seen within Annatar. Now, all that remained was a broken mask, an approximation of beauty that unnerved him, especially with the wide grimace of a smile that quickly stretched across Sauron’s face.

"Celebrimbor," the blond breathed. "So you have returned to me at last."

"Don’t flatter yourself," the smith spat, breathless as he was in the maia’s hold, and dug his nails into the skin of Sauron’s hands. "It is not you I came here for."

There was a twitch to the other’s jaw, brief but visible, and his grip on Celebrimbor’s throat tightened. The smith choked as he scrambled against where the other’s fingers were digging into his flesh. At least, he had Sauron’s full attention now. He wouldn’t hurt Adar.

The elf’s eyes slipped to the uruk, finally freed from the sight of the maia, and the two briefly locked eyes. He could see distress in Adar’s face, who was wide-eyed and painfully struggling to his feet. If he’d had the breath for it, Celebrimbor might have marvelled at how expressive the other could be if he didn’t consciously try to hide himself away.

The thought slipped from his mind as he caught Sauron turning around to follow the direction of Celebrimbor’s gaze.

When he turned back to the smith, his face held an expression of confusion, then disbelief, mixed with a malicious sense of humor.

"Oh, I understand now," Sauron leered at him. "You ran right into his arms, did you not? Found the first one who would listen to your pleas and help you in your fight?"

"My dear Celebrimbor – was it worth it? What did you have to sacrifice, to have him give his army and his own life to you and your friends?"

Despite the lack of air, Celebrimbor couldn’t keep himself from replying. He refused to look at the one who had warped his mind and tormented him all these weeks ago, and instead looked at Adar as he said, "Nothing. I sacrificed nothing, for what we have could never be a loss to me."

This time, he feared the tightening of the other’s hand would be enough to crush his windpipe. The sound of Sauron’s voice bordered on incredulous, now. "You-"

He didn’t get to finish his sentence when, seemingly out of nowhere, Galadriel ripped the darkened iron sword out of Sauron’s shoulder, spun around towards his left, and used the momentum to ram it into the Deceiver’s side instead.

The impact was strong enough to shake the maia and, in turn, the smith in his grasp. Thankfully, the unexpectedness of the attack caused Sauron to lose his focus, and Celebrimbor drew in several, shaking breaths as the grip around his neck slackened a little as a result.

Sadly, not enough to drop him, but getting to breathe again certainly was an improvement.

He wasn’t quite able make out Sauron’s expression from this angle, but Galadriel looked downright furious as she tried to yank the sword back out from where he’d sunk it into the blond. Before she could, Sauron had grabbed her by the throat as well. Thankfully for her, he did not insist to raise her up from the ground and seemed content to just keep her fixed in place.

She, too, fought to try and pry off Sauron’s fingers from her neck, but to no avail.

"Galadriel," the Deceiver spoke. He sounded almost disappointed as he regarded her, before his tone became smug once more. "I’d thought it to be you who had charmed the orcs to the elves’ side, what a surprise to see it was the smith instead. I suppose I should have known. You are, after all, rather well known for killing Adar’s ‘precious’ children."

Celebrimbor knew what the other was doing. Even now, when he had them all at his mercy, when he was so sure of his own victory, he couldn’t help but taunt and try to sow discord among them.

"How can you even bear it, hm? To see one of them despoil your friend in such a manner? A worthless, common orc, and you are letting him have access to the Lord of Eregion."

To her credit, Galadriel looked as incensed as Celebrimbor felt at the fallen maia’s words. "Who my friend claims for himself, whether as friend or partner, is his own choice. And he’s chosen well, picking Adar over you."

"He’s worth many of you – Lord of Nothing." Celebrimbor added, recalling of Sauron had tried to flatter him, and himself, when he’d first presented himself as Annatar.

When the Deceiver was neither a ‘Lord of the Rings’ nor a ‘Lord of Gifts’.

Judging by Galadriel’s pained gasp, and his own inability to breathe, Morgoth’s shadow had taken offense to that title. The smith grinned even though it pained him, and relished the small victory of Sauron’s anger where it became visible on his face.

And then, something else happened.

Again, the maia shook – the sword had been pulled from his side, and thick blood sprayed out of the wound there.

It was Adar who had taken hold of the sword – the sword, which Celebrimbor had made for him. Which he had hoped Adar might use to kill their shared enemy.

Judging by the look in Adar’s eyes, he was ready to do just that. The hatred burning there almost rivalled Sauron’s own.

The smith quickly understood what the uruk intended, and curled his hands around Sauron’s wrist – not to pry off his grasp, but to hold onto it. To keep the maia from reaching out and stopping Adar, even if he knew that the other had far greater strength than he himself did and would be able to shake off his grip eventually.

But, he wouldn’t be able to do so right away – and that would be all the time Adar might need.

Just like him, Galadriel too changed her grip, and held tightly onto Sauron’s hand.

The blond needed a moment to notice, his expression one of surprise.

He faltered.

Adar didn’t.

The uruk lurched forward with a shout, and drove the dark iron sword right into the maia’s chest. It went all the way through, spilling even more black blood.

His face was terribly close to Sauron’s now, the two staring at each other – the fallen maia in shock, eyes wide and unable to give any smug response, while Adar’s face held a look of grim satisfaction.

"Do us all a favor. And die, permanently, this time."

The uruk pushed Sauron back, then, and finally, Celebrimbor felt the pressure around his throat release.

He fell to the ground and likely would have crumbled into a heap on the floor, had it not been for Adar catching and steadying him before he did.

Like the times before when Adar had touched him, Celebrimbor felt warmth spread through his body as he felt the uruk’s arms wrap around him, and held onto the uruk’s arms with his own hands in turn. Even more so when he was quickly dragged away from Sauron, who was stumbling and staring at the sword embedded in his chest. His look was one of sheer disbelief.

Celebrimbor was glad to note that Elrond and Gil-Galad had also reached Galadriel’s side and were pulling her back as well. In the light, he saw all three of their rings glimmer at once, before his attention was pulled back towards his husband.

"Are you alright?" Adar asked him, sounding urgent, and tightened his arms around the elf as they finally came to stand, far enough away that the maia could not reach them. His gaze was searching, and still held genuine fear.

Celebrimbor couldn’t help but smile – even though the danger wasn’t gone until Sauron lay dead, he felt relief at seeing Adar alive and at being able to hold him. Living, breathing proof that he hadn’t lost the uruk.

"I will be, now that you are safe."

The other seemed ready to reply, but he only opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss for words. The elf couldn’t blame him.

There was a loud gurgling sound that ripped them out of their brief exchange, and both Adar and Celebrimbor looked over to see Sauron struggling to stay upright. He was trying to pull the sword out of his chest; whether he knew what it was, or had been, the smith couldn’t say, but he looked frustrated more than anything.

Which, of course – the crown hadn’t fully killed him the first time, after all. He likely still expected to survive this.

Galadriel stepped in front of Sauron again, ready to try and prove him wrong. Celebrimbor only hoped it would work.

She gripped the handle of the sword.

If Sauron had expected her to speak any words, he would have to be disappointed. Celebrimbor could tell she had yanked the sword out of his chest, but anything else blurred before his eyes as Adar turned them around and threw the elf and himself onto the ground as he covered Celebrimbor’s body with his own.

The last thing Celebrimbor saw, in that moment, was Vilya, Narya and Nenya, gleaming brightly as if with a power of their own, before there was a loud scream tearing through the forge and a blinding light shot out, bright enough that Celebrimbor had to close his eyes and turned his head into the dark, safe space between Adar’s neck and shoulder while he held onto the uruk for dear life.