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[handofsilver]

What you have seen in the mirrors is no different from experiencing a nightmare while you slumber. The images need not be reality, though if that must be so, I encourage you to face them bravely. They are the worst, are they not? All else is, therefore, better, by comparison, at least.

(He, for one, refuses to give his enemy (one of the Enemies of his world) power over him. It helps that he is surrounded by his kin and they are daily reminders of why - and how - he can overcome.)

You are not alone in your suffering.

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[handofsilver]

Are you alone? Do you needwant company? (His father is strong. He doesn't like presuming.)

[so_dark_a_road]

I do, if you are free. I'm in the orchard. Where are you? [ Curufin is strong, but even he is shaken by his own vision. He has a longing to see his son. He needs to see him. Cel can presume all he wants! ]

[handofsilver]

I'll find you. (The journey is worthwhile despite him being more fatigued than usual. He leans against his staff, taking a break once he steps into the orchard.)

Atar?

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[so_dark_a_road]

[ Curufin hears his son calling and comes out of the trees. ] I shouldn't have let you walk, I should have come to you.

[ He hugs him, and then he takes his son's arm and leads him to the shade of an apple tree. ] Sit down, won't you?

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[handofsilver]

(He shakes his head and smiles at the sight of his father.) I wanted to come to you. (He would have walked much longer and much further for Curufin. The hug is returned warmly and Celebrimbor follows his father's lead without question.)

I might need help getting up.

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[so_dark_a_road]

[ Curufin is so pleased to see his son's face, and he responds to the smile with one of his own. ]

Well, then you need something to sit on. [ He looks around, sees a heap of sawn tree trunk sections not far away. Somebody has cut down one of the trees, for an unknown reason, and cut it up into pieces. Curufin walks over, grabs a heavy section of stump, hefts it up into his arms, brings it over and sets it down under the tree that he had led Cel to. The stump is high enough so that Cel won't have to lower himself far to sit on it, and it won't be as difficult to get up from as the ground would have been. Nevertheless, he'll offer his son an arm if he needs one. ]

It's nice here. This is where I often come to think. And I have much to think about, at the moment. [ Gah! The ugliness of his vision! ]

[ But would his son's vision not be even worse? ] Are you all right yourself, Telpë?

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[handofsilver]

(The solution - and the kindness behind it - ensure the smile continues. Celebrimbor kisses Curufin's cheek before sitting, setting his staff aside for the moment.)

Do not give away this location or you will need to fight for access to it! (All of Hadriel needs a place to think. He feels bad for everyone, but he only knows one way to counteract the pain: to persevere, which is why he squeezes Curufin's hand at the question.)

I was a little sick, truthfully, but perhaps it was something I ate?

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[so_dark_a_road]

[ The sweet boy that Cel was is not lost in the grown-up Elven-lord. He gets a smile from his father. ]

[ Chuckle. ] Well, you have your staff, and I have my strong right arm. We'll fight them off! None shall take the orchard from us!

[ He folds his son's hand in his. ]

Considering you were the cook this week, I don't think you could have given yourself food poisoning. You're far too careful when you select the ingredients.

Do you want to talk about what you saw? You know I will listen. But only if you wish to speak. [ Because it must be up to Cel, to know whether it will help or hurt to talk about it. ]

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[handofsilver]

(No, he hasn't changed much at all. Celebrimbor had a brief period of arrogant pride, but he has since been humbled back to his true self.)

I would stop them from bothering you, most definitely. (A few whacks of his staff would definitely send a message (and a lot of bruises). His expression falls and he flexes his fingers, gripping on tighter to Curufin's hand. Maglor knows what becomes of him... Fingon does too...

It's right that Curufin does as well. He doesn't want to block him out of any part of his life.)

I saw...myself...being tortured by Sauron.

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[so_dark_a_road]

[ Curufin will never be able to see Celebrimbor as having been arrogant and prideful. But then, he's his son's partisan, always! ]

[ He smiles, imagining generous Cel stepping up to defend his father's peace of mind. That staff is no slight weapon, in the hands of the youngest Fëanorian! ]

You would!

[ He has guessed Celebrimbor's vision would involve Sauron -- what else? And his heart aches for his son, with a deep, ineradicable pain. But he is here for him, always. Cel's experience and how he deals with it are forever a part of Cel, and his father's love is for his son as a whole person. Curufin's face grows somber but soft with empathy. His eyes -- so like his son's, but a darker gray -- glow with that love. He wraps his fingers more tightly around Cel's. ]

Yes. [ And again, he waits for Cel to continue if he wishes to. ]

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[handofsilver]

(He is blessed to have such a dedicated father who only sees his Light! Celebrimbor is relieved to be humble enough to truly treasure the time they have together.

Oh most certainly not! His staff can fell foes completely if he hits them hard enough! He smiles shyly at the encouragement, eyes bright.)

My dear Atar's peace means much to me.

(Speaking of the visions erases his delight and he fights not to fidget or otherwise show his distress. Curufin's grip anchors him to the here and now; a place and time that cannot be poisoned by Sauron or any of his foul forces.)

He wished to know the location of my rings. I refused to give them to him for I had given them to friends. He grew angry.

(And an angry Maia of fire is no weak enemy.)

His chains burned me, but not enough to kill me straight away.

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[so_dark_a_road]

[ Curufin sees what little darkness is contained in Celebrimbor's spirit. All the Fëanorians have it, but some more than others. And Cel the least of all. His Light blazes out and causes the shadows to fall away; his sweetness lights the way before him.

Oooh, that determined staff! Curufin smiles back. ]

Thank you, my son. And yours means everything to me.

[ He sees Celebrimbor's face change, and keeps hold of his hand. He does mean to be an anchor for this child of his, no matter that he's grown. Being an adult does not mean one does not need one's parent, especially in such a time as this. ]

My brave son.

[ And he indicates with the sureness of his grip and the softness of his eyes that he is listening, and can hear what Cel has to say, no matter how bad it is. He is here for him, always. ]