第 43 页

Finrod had been sitting on a bench in front of the campus center, and had risen to his feet as the two girls approached. “Hello, Artanis.” He gave a slight smile. “Amarië.”

Amarië didn’t say anything, her throat suddenly having constricted into a tight, horrible little knot.

“I’m here to pick you up, remember?” Finrod said to Galadriel, when it became clear Amarië wasn’t going to – or couldn’t – answer.

“We’d said 6 o’clock,” said Galadriel, still letting her body serve as buffer between Amarië and Finrod. “You’re over an hour early.”

“Mother had to shift dinner up – she swapped call shifts with Anairë this evening. I tried to call you but your phone was off.”

“I was in class.”

“At any rate, I found you, so I can take you to dinner now – Aiko’s going to meet us there.”

“Fine,” said Galadriel slowly. She turned back to Amarië, who was quite pale now, rather than flushed, and who was holding onto her books in front of her as if they were a shield. “Sorry to cut our conversation short, but I’ll call you later tonight, all right? We can talk more about the thing you just mentioned…”

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” said Amarië, in a very low voice. Finrod was watching her with the light, curious glance of his, the one that had drawn her to him in the first place, but just now, made her feel like her skin was trying to retreat into her flesh. “I’ll see you around, Artanis.” And she fled – she knew that was what she was doing, even though she felt ashamed of herself for doing so. She fled, even though walking that fast made her ankle vibrate with pain. She fled, because she didn’t think she could stand Finrod knowing that just the sight of him could make her cry.

-

Galadriel adjusted her shoulder bag and started to walk down the street at Finrod’s side. She didn’t say anything, but Finrod kept looking back over his shoulder, even though Amarië was long gone.

“It’s funny,” he said softly. “I had a dream about her last night. Odd that I would have had that dream and then seen her for the first time in – ”

“Right,” said Galadriel curtly.

Finrod either didn’t register her tone, or was deliberately ignoring it. He appeared to be thinking. “Did she hurt herself?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“She’s favoring her right leg,” said Finrod patiently. “Is she injured?”

Galadriel looked reluctant but said, “She hurt her Achilles in practice.”

“Oh.” Finrod looked over his shoulder again. “Is she doing all right? I know that must be hard for her…”

“Yes, it is.”

“She looked well, considering. But then, she’s always been tough, hasn’t she, even though she looks so sweet and delicate? I wonder what it means, that I dreamt of her. Maybe I was meant to – ”

“Oh, no. Stop,” said Galadriel, pulling up short, and turning a furious gaze on her brother.

“What?”

“Knock it off. Leave her alone. I won’t have you dragging her back into your nonsense. I won’t have you…idealizing her.”

Finrod stared at her, his lips thinning. “How do you know what I’m doing? You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You have that look on your face. You have that tone in your voice. You’re making her into an idea, and soon you’re going to start yearning for it.”

“That is not what I’m doing. ”

“All she would have had to do,” said Galadriel, relentlessly, “if she wanted to keep you, was to have dumped you back in August. Then, oh, you would have wanted her like burning. You wouldn’t have been able to endure for love of her.”

“That’s not true. What on earth are you– ”

“How have you not figured this out yet? You want what you can’t have, Ingoldo, it's the oldest cliché in the book. You love the unattainable, you crave the forbidden, you want to be loved but only if you’re told no, that’s the thing you can’t have!”

-

There had never been knock-down fights in their household, growing up. They had all, for the most part, gotten along well. But always there had been an understanding that when they fought – if they fought – it would be a battle of words, more psychological warfare than anything else. Finrod and Galadriel had both been experts; had both been merciless when given the chance. And all of a sudden, echoes of their few, fervent battles from their youth were clamoring in their ears.

I am the only person who sees as much as you do, and guess what? I’ve been watching.

-

Finrod’s face had smoothed out into a mask. “I don’t do that.”

“Don’t you? You always want what’s just around the corner, and you discard whatever you’re holding at the time to seek it. But then, once you’ve made it around the corner, you look back over your shoulder and realize what you’ve dropped is precious, after all.”

They’d been masters on the debate team.

“Cleverly put. What a generous description of me,” said Finrod, coolly, his eyes turning sharp and icy. “By your reckoning then, Artanis, I will never be happy.”

“No,” said Galadriel bluntly. “If you keep at it like you are, you won’t be.”

“Charming. Any other judgments to pass on me, little sister?”

“Don’t patronize me.” Galadriel was walking again, her long legs carrying her swiftly down the sidewalk. Finrod kept pace with her easily. “But leave Amarië be. You’ve crushed her enough times already, leave her alone. Your dream didn’t mean anything other than maybe you have a guilty conscience, or perhaps you’ve gone long enough without her that you’re realizing what you’ve lost, or maybe it was just the detritus of having been with someone for two years – hard to shake that from your subconscious." Finrod opened his mouth to retort, but Galadriel plunged on relentlessly. "And I know you’re doing something stupid with Carnistir too, I know you are, and so do you. You know it’s going to blow up in your face, hah, you’re counting on it. That’s always your back-up plan. Work your way in, make yourself beloved, and always have an exit strategy – total combustion.”

Finrod was white with anger. “Do you have a point with all this, Artanis?”

“I’m tired of seeing who you leave in your wake!” snarled Galadriel, rounding on him. “I love Amarië, and these days it’s hard for her to even be around me because she’s afraid of seeing you! Do you think it’s easy for me to see one of my good friends totally shattered by you? I love her like a sister, Ingo, and as it turns out, I’m rather short on sisters in this family. For what it's worth, I loved Andreth too!”

“How is THAT my fault?”

“Oh, please. You broke them up! You think I don’t know about the talk you had with her? You were so set on being perceptive and reading their relationship that you thrust them apart as effectively as if you’d broken it off yourself. You didn’t take a moment to think that for all of their issues, they deserved a chance to try and work through things? But no, you can’t hold back, can you? You always have to prove that you’re more conscious of what’s going on with people than they are themselves, and then you tell them exactly what that is, and then you act surprised when this tears them up…”

“Ironic, then,” said Finrod coldly, “that that’s exactly what you’re doing right now. How very self-aware. Are are you so caught up in your own perfection, your own little bubble of superiority that you can’t see the hypocrisy of calling me out while doing exactly what you’re condemning?”

“Oh no,” said Galadriel. “I know exactly what I’m doing. The difference is that this isn’t about me trying to prove how smart I am to you, Ingoldo. You know that. I am doing this because you need to be torn up. It’s about time someone did it.”

“What arrogant bullshit,” snapped Finrod. “How entitled are you, Artanis, that you need to inflict your opinion on everyone around you? I see now why you keep Teleporno around…Do you love him because he’s just mild enough a personality to be no threat to you? Or do you love him because he’d never challenge you, which is good, because god forbid someone ever challenge you…”

Galadriel seemed to grow several inches. She was already taller than her brother, but now she loomed. “Don’t you dare talk about him like that. Like you know a thing about him – about us. What would you know about how we challenge each other? He is so much I will never be – so much you could never be – and he is more worthy of love than any person I have ever met.”

“And me? Am I not worthy of love?”

“Not right now you’re not.”

They arrived at the car and Galadriel got in, her lips in a thin, tight line, her eyes blazing. Finrod stood outside his door for a moment, clearly working to get his temper under control, and then got in and started the engine.

By the time they made it to dinner, Galadriel and Finrod were perfectly composed, and brilliantly, icily polite to one another. Eärwen frowned at their stiff shoulders, and Aegnor, who’d been gloomy since Angrod left anyway, sighed into his salad, but neither said anything. Galadriel and Finrod both smiled, and made light small-talk. But they didn’t meet each other’s eyes, and neither ate very much.

And when they left to go home, Galadriel rode with Aegnor instead, and Finrod didn’t show up at the apartment the three of them shared until much, much later.

* * *

“Hello?” Celegorm pulled his key out of the lock as he stepped through the door, Huan barreling past his legs to go crashing into Nahar, who tolerated him with weary patience. “Oromë?”

“Tyelko?”

Celegorm was halfway through shrugging off his jacket when Oromë appeared in the front hallway.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t let you know I was dropping by, I – ” But before Celegorm could finish his sentence, Oromë was sweeping him into his arms and kissing him so thoroughly that Celegorm entirely forgot what he was going to say.

“Whew,” he said, when Oromë finally released him, one arm still tight and possessive around his waist, “That’s some welcome, Coach.”

“I missed you,” said Oromë in a low voice, one hand coming up to cup Celegorm’s face. “It’s been too long, Tyelko, it’s been weeks…”

“I know,” said Celegorm, nuzzling against Oromë’s palm. “I’m sorry, I’ve been busy, and I’ve...well, I’ve been…” He trailed off, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

Oromë frowned down at him, recognizing the glint. “What have you been up to?”

“Stalling,” said Celegorm, and kissed Oromë’s jaw. “Killing time.”

“Why were you stalling about seeing me?” Oromë pressed his palm to the small of Celegorm’s back, drawing their hips together as his eyes flickered over Celegorm’s face, trying to read him.

“Well, delayed gratification is fun, isn’t it?”

Oromë’s frown turned from concern to profound skepticism. He laid the back of his hand to Celegorm’s forehead. “Are you ill? Are you running a fever? Have you sustained some major trauma that has completely altered your personality?”

Celegorm laughed, batting Oromë’s hand away. “Yeah, ha ha, okay, Irissë called that one.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. How was the conference?” Celegorm slung his arms around Oromë’s neck, since it didn’t seem like Oromë was inclined to let him go anytime soon.

“It was a week and a half ago, now.”

“So…boring?”

“Yes, fairly boring. Mostly they wanted me to speak about the successes our program has had and what might be implementable at other schools.”

“You have designed a killer program, Coach.”

“I suppose.” Oromë ran his hand up Celegorm’s back. “I have to say I’m less interested in talking about the minutiae of my week with groups of thick-necked men in polo shirts than I am in talking about you…or not talking, as the case may be.”

“Eager, are you?” Celegorm grinned. “Then what are you waiting for?”

“Good question.” Oromë tugged Celegorm up into another kiss, almost pulling him off his feet. “If you don’t make it to the bedroom in the next minute, I’m just going to have to take you here in the hallway.”

They made it to the bedroom, barely, before Oromë was throwing Celegorm bodily down on the bed and making to pull his clothes off.

“Oh, right, wait, hang on hang on,” Celegorm managed, as Oromë’s fingers twisted into the material of his shirt. “Uh, okay, before I get naked, you should, like, prepare yourself.”

Oromë sat back, concern knotting his brows again. “Prepare myself for what?”

“Something new.” Celegorm scooted upright and, taking a deep breath, pulled his shirt over his head.

Oromë’s eyes raked the familiar lines of Celegorm’s torso, and then stopped, fixed, on Celegorm’s bicep and shoulder. Celegorm shifted slightly, so that he was angled slightly away from Oromë, and Oromë could see the full extent of…something new.

In addition to the light freckles that scattered over Celegorm’s tan skin, dark ink now raced from his shoulder blade to his bicep.

It was a wolf.

A clear black outline only, but lines like brush strokes that sent the animal racing in delight over Celegorm’s arm; so skillfully rendered that its wild dash across his skin conveyed all the savage, ferocious joy of the wolf; a savage, ferocious joy that was somehow also all that was essentially Celegorm.

It was a beautiful piece.

It was also familiar.

Unconsciously, Oromë reached for his own shoulder. “That’s…that’s…”

“You like it?” Celegorm was grinning, but there was some nervousness in it. “It’s why I was holding off on seeing you, I wanted it to heal up some first.”

“When – ”

“While you were away. I went with Irissë.”

Oromë found his voice. “Why didn’t you tell me before you got it?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

It is that. “Did you think this through?”

Celegorm’s expression shifted. “Yeah, of course I did. Why?”

Oromë ran a hand over his own arm again. “It’s just…Tyelko, I got my tattoos when I was your age, I didn’t think it through hardly at all, and there have been many times I’ve regretted them…You know I had to get some covered up or removed. This is hardly something to do on a whim.”

“It wasn’t a whim.” Celegorm’s voice had tautened. “Believe me, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. And why would I want to get it covered up or removed?”

Oromë’s eyes fell once again on the wolf. The echo of the one that raced across his own back… He knew it for the declaration it was. His heart turned over. “You may regret…”

“Why would I ever regret it?” Celegorm’s voice hardened, defiant.

Don’t make me say it. “Your… your feelings may change…”

To his surprise, Celegorm laughed, shaking his head. “You’re still determined to convince me that I shouldn’t love you, aren’t you?”

“No!” Oromë leaned forward, his hands cupping Celegorm’s face tenderly once more. “Once, maybe, but now…now you’ll never find me wanting that. Your love is…” is the most precious thing in the world to me. I just can’t let myself believe it will last as long as what you have inked on your skin.

Celegorm was watching him knowingly, as if he could see what was going on behind Oromë’s eyes. When had he gotten so good at seeing straight through him? Oromë slid his hand down Celegorm’s neck and gently touched the lines of the wolf’s back. “I just wish you’d talked about this with me beforehand. I could have – ”