[Durelin]

On their way to the palace, Maegisil tried to inform Narisiel of the most recent events, speaking more hurriedly than he usually did, as well as more casually, being on much more familiar terms with the elf woman than in the past. Over the past year and a half or so, he had come to regard her as a friend. He had no idea if she shared this feeling of friendship, but they spent some time together. He had been worried that Sairien would take his associating himself with another woman the wrong way, but she had yet to say anything of that sort. Narisiel and Sairien had met before, and his wife seemed to get along with her quite well.

You’ve never asked, though, have you?

He quickly disregarded this thought, knowing it was for another time, but knowing also in the back of his mind that he had been putting off so many things, particularly surrounding his wife. But no one could have known from his voice that so many things troubled him.

“Lord Celebrimbor has been completely silent the past few days, and this news has only made him worse. I’ve asked him what he wanted done, but he didn’t say more than three words to me until today. And still, he talks very little. But that is why I hurried so to get to you. He’s finally called for council, and if we slow down at all…” Maegisil trailed off, having too many words to choose from.

“He might change his mind…” Narisiel said, finishing his thought.

“And he might not ask for any help again,” he added gravely, “which he needs.”

Narisiel nodded, and Maegisil went back to watching his feet moving quickly below him. He picked up the pace a little bit, his feeling of urgency increasing as he recalled events before he departed from the palace, picturing the fear he had observed in the faces of all those present. The Lord Celebrimbor had tried to hide his fear, and perhaps to those who did not know him so well, such as the scouts and Commander Elgedon, he appeared quite calm. But Maegisil had seen immense distress on his lord’s face, though the elf-lord’s whole demeanor had been tainted with sadness and stress for many years now. The counselor recalled a different Celebrimbor from long ago.

“I’ve almost forgotten how Celebrimbor used to smile and laugh with my wife and I at dinner, when I would never have dreamed of being called a ‘counselor,’” Maegisil said after they had walked in silence for a few moments. He spoke more slowly and cautiously, unsure of himself and of confiding in Narisiel; not because she was not a friend to him, but because he often got needlessly embarrassed about sharing anything at all personal. He had always been that way, even with his wife, which he knew frustrated her to no end. Sairien had always gotten him to open up in the end, though. At least, she had in the past.

Narisiel looked at Maegisil, and, catching his eye for a moment, said, “So have I. Almost.”

She smiled slightly, and her companion could not help but smile back. But the two fell into silence again, each with a head crowded with thoughts, walking as quickly as they could without making fools of themselves in the city streets. No one spoke until they reached the palace, and they merely exchanged surprised glances when Taurnil met them in the entrance hall and said he was to lead them to Celebrimbor’s chambers. Maegisil had expected that the lord would hold a council in the great Hall, inviting all of his various counselors and courtiers to inform them of the situation. But it seemed that councils, courtrooms, banquets, and performances were things completely of the past in Ost-in-Edhil. The Hall of the palace had not seen more than about five people for many years. The forges were the only things that had not gone silent.

The two found the Lord of Eregion sitting in a large, ornate wooden chair, looking gloomy, pensive, and worried, and yet still quite regal. Maegisil paused in front of the door, tucking away the image of his lord in his mind. He was not sure why he did so, but suddenly he felt that he could almost cry. But then the moment passed, and he stepped forward into the room, looking around him. Commander Elgedon had returned, and one of the scouts from earlier was standing behind and slightly to the right of where he sat on one of the couches, but other than that…

“Yes, Maegisil, this is the ‘council’ I have called,” Celebrimbor said in a weary voice; he had read the look on his friend’s face. The counselor felt a twinge of pain and sadness, hurt slightly by his lord’s tone. Narisiel did not seem happy with the elf-lord’s attitude, either. Maegisil noticed her glare at him, even if he didn’t.

“Well, if this is who you wish to aid you in a time of war, then so be it,” Maegisil said simply, meaning every word of it. Celebrimbor seemingly ignored him, turning to Narisiel. “So he dragged you into this, as well?”

“I thought that was your wish,” Maegisil cut in, sounding a little indignant, but the lord silenced him with a gesture and continued.

“I am sorry that what we did has come to this. To think that a few rings could have brought Eregion to an end…my glory to an end… It has brought me to an end.”

His words and the tone in which he spoke frightened his two friends, and Elgedon eyed the elf-lord with great concern. Celebrimbor had done what Maegisil had been afraid he would do for the past two years: he had given in. And for a moment, the counselor wondered if his lord had not given in to Sauron over a century ago.