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Celegorm pushed himself back and stared at Oromë. “What?”

“I should have done it when we first got back together this fall. I should have come forward immediately and said listen, I am involved with one of my former athletes.”

“Why the fuck would you – ”

“The fact of me concealing it for this long makes it worse, honestly, and I should have been straightforward from the beginning. Because what I did – sleeping with you while I was your coach – WAS unethical, and it deserves to be questioned. This way they can conduct their own investigation to determine if my affair with you had an impact on my coaching, or the team, or my behavior towards you. They can investigate whether or not I ever acted inappropriately towards any other athlete I ever had. And then they can decide what to do about it.”

“Could you get fired?”

“Certainly. I will likely go on administrative leave while they conduct their investigation – or voluntary suspension without pay. And I will resign if it seems appropriate.”

“But the team – ”

“We’re in the off-season now, but I’m going to tell them myself the same thing I will tell the administration. I imagine they will have their own questions and anger and disappointment…I cannot blame them for losing faith in me, but they can at least hear it from me rather than some third party.”

“But – ” Celegorm was struggling to find words to respond.

“Look, Tyelko, this is either going to come from your father, or from me. On the whole, I’d rather be the one setting in action the events that will determine my fate, for what little it’s worth. At least it will be my choice, and what I should have done anyway.”

“How are you so calm about this?” Celegorm burst out. “I’ve been fucking dying for the past few days. I’ve seen you look like hell just from running into my dad at a restaurant, how are you so relaxed right now?”

Oromë smiled faintly. “I don’t know that relaxed is the word for it – but relieved, on some level, might be accurate. I’ve been worrying about this for over a year, ever since I first fell for you. Now the worst has happened and I can actually deal with it, and accept the consequences, rather than speculating and living in fear. I hate lying, I hate hiding, I hate not knowing – I much prefer to meet these things head on.”

“Ah, fuck.” Celegorm stared at him, his face showing exasperation and affection in equal measure. It was a look Oromë very often bestowed upon him. “You say shit like that, and half of me wants to beat you over the head for being so goddamn noble and stupid, and half of me just…” He leaned forward and kissed Oromë roughly. “…remembers that it’s shit like this that makes me love you.” He pulled back, sitting with his knees on either side of one of Oromë's legs, and cupped Oromë’s face between his hands. “…I kinda thought you were gonna come here and try to end things with me.”

“No,” said Oromë, quiet but fierce. “I am beyond that, Tyelko. I will only ever end things with you if you want it. I am done trying to shut you out for your own good. I am done trying to tell myself we’d be happier apart. I may lose my job, and I may well deserve it, but I’m not going to lose you unless you tell me we’re through.”

Celegorm grabbed him hard and pressed their foreheads together. “It’s about time you came to that conclusion. ‘Cos you’re stuck with me – non-fucking negotiable.”

They grinned, rather fiercely, at each other.

“Good.”

Oromë finally spoke again, his thumb brushing gently over the hollow of Celegorm’s throat. “After I go to the administration, if and when they launch this investigation, they’re going to want to talk to you.”

Celegorm shrugged, and curled his lip. “Fine. I’ll talk about whatever they like. They’ll get the truth.”

But Oromë wasn’t finished. “The other thing is that your father won’t be the only one who feels like he does. You’re going to hear people say things about me. They may ask questions that imply the very worst…”

“Anyone who says that can go fuck themselves with a rusty fuckin’ poker.”

“No, listen, Tyelko,” said Oromë, as Celegorm bared his teeth, looking wolfish. “I know how you can get, I know how protective you are, and I really do appreciate your loyalty – but you can’t fly off the handle when they say things about me, no matter what they suggest. I’ll be fine, I can take it, and you and I both know what we have – but please, don’t lose it when you hear someone badmouth me. They are perfectly within their rights to do so, and you going wild will only make things worse.”

Celegorm began to protest, but stopped himself, his eyes dulling. “Yeah, that might be true.”

Oromë regarded him closely. “Now can I ask how you’re doing?”

Celegorm shrugged. “Hey, I’m fine, nothing major; I’m just finally estranged from my father. Long time coming, honestly.”

Celegorm’s voice was unnaturally cold, and the harshness of his tone made Oromë ache. “I never wanted that. I know this is hard, I know he’s angry, I know you’re angry, but I have no doubt he loves you and that’s why – ”

But Celegorm’s face had gone as hard as his voice. “Leave it, Oromë. I’m done with him.”

“Okay.” There was more Oromë wanted to say, but he could see by the warning light in Celegorm’s eyes that now wasn’t the time.

Celegorm’s jaw worked. “But that’s…that’s not the worst. I don’t give a shit about my dad, and this was inevitable anyway, right? But. Oromë, I.” He seemed to be struggling to find the words, and Oromë felt his heart seize as he saw tears rise in Celegorm’s eyes. “Something bad happened. I did something – I hurt – I cut my little brother’s face open.”

“WHAT?”

Celegorm’s voice was thick, and his face was grief-stricken. “I was so angry…I was smashing the kitchen to pieces, and he came in just as I threw something – he caught it full in the face.”

Oromë found Celegorm’s hand and held it tightly. “My god. Is he okay?”

“They say…they say so.”

“Did you take him to the doctor?”

Celegorm swallowed. “My cousin is a med student…”

Oromë bit back his impatience. “Your cousin? For god’s sake, Tyelko, he needs – ”

“I know,” cried Celegorm. “I know. But he won’t go. And he’s been bandaged up now, and Turukáno would have said…I don’t know what else to do. He says he’s fine. Even Nelyo’s let it drop at this point…”

Oromë took a deep breath. “Please keep me up to date on how he’s doing. If he needs to see someone, I can help find…”

“I know.”

Oromë’s hand tightened around Celegorm’s. “This is why I need you to hold it together if you hear things. When you get that angry, you can - you have - hurt yourself or others. It was bad enough when it was just you getting hurt. I never want to see that happen again, and even less do I want – ”

“I know, I know.”

Oromë raised Celegorm’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Promise. As a favor to me, Tyelko, as a promise to your brother. Promise you will try.”

Celegorm looked over, as if he could see through the door and across the hallway. “I promise.”

* * *

Quite a while later, Oromë stepped quietly out of Celegorm’s room, shutting the door carefully behind him. He’d left Celegorm sunk into a deep sleep in his bed. He’d looked like he hadn’t slept for days, and it was only after they’d stopped talking, and Oromë had pressed long kisses to his lips and held him close, and Celegorm had wordlessly begged for more, and they’d made love as quietly as they could in Celegorm’s small, afternoon-lit room, that Celegorm had fallen asleep, worn out and newly calm in Oromë’s arms.

Oromë had been tempted to stay, to lie with Celegorm in the crook of his arm and watch him sleep, but part of him knew that if he didn’t pull himself away now, he’d never leave. So he’d gotten up and dressed, Celegorm rolling into the warmth left by his body, still unwaking.

As he shut the door behind him and looked up, he saw a slim, dark-haired figure watching him from across the hall, leaning against the doorframe, arms folded. He recognized Curufin at once, not least from the bandages and bruises that covered half his face. He couldn’t help but wince – he’d seen much worse, of course, but it didn’t make that sharp young face, so badly battered, any easier to look at.

Curufin looked away from his stricken expression. “Oh, spare me.”

Oromë tried to wipe the dismay from his face and spoke as calmly as he could. “It looks like it’s healing well, at least. Are you icing it?”

“Yes.”

Oromë hesitated. “Arnica may help with the bruising. Calendula will speed the healing process, once the cut starts to close. And vitamin e might help keep it from scarring.”

Curufin stared at him, and for a moment, Oromë decided he must have over stepped. But then Curufin said, “Thank you.”

“I am sorry, about all of this.”

Curufin rolled his eyes. “I know.”

“If,” Oromë took a deep breath. “If Tyelko gets….angry, again, if he loses control, or gets dangerous…please call me.”

“Sure,” said Curufin. “I’ll just shoot the bat signal into the sky and hope that the Commissioner can find you.”

“That probably won’t be necessary.” Oromë pulled out his wallet and extracted a card from it. “My number. Please don’t hesitate to use it.”

Curufin took it and put it in his pocket without looking at it. “Noted.”

Oromë waited a moment, then nodded to Curufin and made to head down the stairs.

“Hold on.”

Oromë half turned back.

Curufin looked like he was struggling with something. “How is he? Right now?”

“He’s asleep.”

Curufin let out a long breath, and his body relaxed slightly as he slumped against the doorframe. “Finally.” He stared across the hall at Celegorm’s door, and then, without looking at Oromë, said, “Thank you. I’m…I’m glad he could see you.”

Oromë studied Curufin, who looked suddenly very young, and very weary. “So am I. Take care of yourself, Curufinwë. I hope you have someone who can look in on you, too.”

* * *

Haleth tossed a pair of socks at Caranthir’s head. He ducked, and the socks fell into the open suitcase next to him.

“You need like five more pairs.”

“It’s gonna be a three day trip, Haleth, what the fuck.”

“It’s been snowing like balls, you’re going to get your feet wet, and then you’ll get frostbite and lose your toes if you don’t have a dry pair to change into.”

“I will not lose my toes.”

Haleth cracked her gum. “We’ll be able to pop ‘em off one at a time, like snap beads.”

“You are such a fuckin’ sicko.” But Caranthir dropped an armful of socks into the bag.

Haleth poked through several piles of clothes with her toes. A grin crept over her face, and she kicked something free. “Ooooh, a condom wrapper? Moryo, you dog.”

Caranthir flushed and didn’t look at her. “Shut up.”

Haleth waggled her eyebrows. “You seeing someone? Had a hot date? Who’s the lucky – ”

“No one. Not like that. I’m not – It’s not – Shut up.”

Haleth kept grinning, but didn’t say anything more.

“I shouldn’t be going away this weekend,” muttered Caranthir, dropping random articles of clothing into the bag. “My brothers probably need…what if something…”

“They’ll be fine without you,” said Haleth soothingly. “From what you’ve told me, the worst of it has already happened, yeah? But come on, the Mountain Club has this killer cabin, and you’ve never once taken advantage of it, and you need a break, and I’m going to teach you to ice climb…”

“…and pop my toes off one at a time, apparently.”

“Only if you don’t bring enough socks.” Haleth dropped down on the bed and hung her head into the suitcase so she could smile up at Caranthir. “C’mon, Moryo, it’ll be fun. And I’m going to get you drunk and then maybe you’ll tell me whose been in your bed enough times to go through this many condoms.” She held up another wrapper she’d unearthed under the pillow, and Caranthir snatched it from her fingers, turning an even deeper shade of red as Haleth laughed delightedly.

* * *

Hey. I heard about what happened.

Oh good, I didn’t have enough people being solicitous and sympathetic at me before.

Perish the thought. I wasn’t planning on being solicitous OR sympathetic.

I wanted to know if you have a rakish scar now.

Oh, please.

You’d be hot with a scar.

I wasn’t hot before? Thanks a lot.

I think you should know that I’m rolling my eyes right now.

Careful, your face will get stuck like that.

It’s the least I can do when someone who looks like you is fishing for compliments.

Someone who looks like me?

You’re doing it again.

Sorry. You wanted to know about a scar.

Yes.

Check back in a couple weeks.

I’d like to check in a bit sooner than that.

…

He’s out of town through Monday.

…

Noted.

Now leave me alone, I have work to do.

Leaving…

(Take care of yourself, for real, though.)

Yes, yes.

Yes. Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Chapter End Notes

1. Since we’ve had Celegorm sequestered for three days/chapters now, I couldn’t help but feel I was writing the third of his visitations here, à la A Christmas Carol – he needed that last one to actually get out of his total funk.

2. Re: the title – Tell me ‘Your Bones’ by Of Monsters and Men ain’t a great song for C/O, esp in canonverse. Anyway, for once I jacked a lyric from them instead of awolnation. I am capable of change.

Kill your heroes

Chapter Summary

Everyday things

Chapter Notes

0. This opening scene was written many months ago as a Christmas gift for Silje – I have since updated it to take into account recent events, but it means that she has had enough time with the text to actually illustrate it. This is the first time I actually get to include DWMP fanart in the body of the work itself! As an added bonus, Silje is spectacularly talented and capable of reducing me to a quivering mass with her rendition of this scene. Anyway, enjoy the first edition of illustrated DWMP!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Curufin had abandoned his monitors for once and had resorted to coding while lying in bed – a last ditch effort to kick-start creativity. The cut on his face was itching abominably as it healed, and it was as distracting as a fly buzzing in his ear. He’d hoped work would prove consuming enough to keep his hands from drifting to his face, but so far, work had been coming only with difficulty. It wasn’t until he moved to the bed that he finally was able to lose himself in his code, to his great relief. In fact, he was so absorbed in his task, his laptop propped on his knees, that he didn’t notice someone had slipped into his room until that someone was standing at the foot of his bed, laughing at him.

“Earth to Curvo.”

Curufin groaned. “Like I’ve never heard that one before.” He didn’t raise his eyes from the screen, absorbed in the text scrolling past. “Get a new joke.”

“What are you working on?” Sunlight caught fair hair and amused blue eyes.

“What?” Curufin looked up, and blinked. Finrod. Finrod, who as promised, was not looking solicitous, or pitying, and whose eyes lingered only briefly on the fading bruises on his face. “Oh.” He gestured at his screen. “That program I’ve been perfecting for the past year or so.” He chewed his lip, eyes drifting back to his terminal. If he was honest with himself, CLBRMBR was far from perfect. “It’s still pretty buggy, but it runs rings around my previous prototype.”