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Celegorm swallowed. His instinctive reaction was to get defensive, angry at this rapid dissection of his personal life, but instead he just felt nervous. “Oh.”

Eonwë waited another moment, as if giving Celegorm a chance to reply more fully, and when he didn’t, Eonwë set the papers on the ground and said, “You won’t see him around, don’t worry.”

“Sorry,” said Celegorm, “see who?”

“Manwë.” Eonwë leaned back in his chair. “His name may be on the foundation, but you are hardly under his purview and he doesn’t come around much. There won’t be any overlap. I imagine that comes as some relief to you?”

“Uh,” said Celegorm. “Sure, I guess.”

“Unless of course,” said Eonwë smoothly, “you were hoping to encounter him.” It held the cadence of a question, but Celegorm hesitated, unsure if he was being asked or told.

“Uh,” he said again. “No, not really.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad tactic,” said Eonwë lightly, “to get close to someone you might wish to…confront.”

“What? No,” said Celegorm, suddenly realizing what Eonwë was getting at. “Shit, no – I mean. Just, no. Sir.” The word came awkwardly to his tongue. “I don’t want to confront anyone.”

He thinks I’m trying to get hired to infiltrate the foundation and get at Manwë? Like, that’s a tactic I wouldn’t put past Curvo, but…

“Not a vengeful man, are you?” Eonwë smiled, and again Celegorm wasn’t sure if he was being invited to share in a joke, or being charged with something.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of the right thing to say when a prospective future employer lightly alluded to a personal vendetta, but as he was about to speak, Eonwë chuckled, and set both feet on the floor. The x-ray stare he’d been leveling at Celegorm suddenly lessened.

“Forget I asked, Mr. Fëanorion. Just doing my due diligence, but I don’t actually think this is something we have to worry about.” Eonwë examined him again, then abruptly rose to his feet. “Come with me, let’s take a tour of the place.”

Apprehensively, and not entirely sure he shouldn’t be offended, Celegorm got up and followed him out of the room.

Eonwë talked rapidly as they walked, pointing out different features of the center. Celegorm followed uncertainly, not sure if this meant it was assumed he was being hired, and too ill at ease to ask. But Eonwë was talking about Oromë again, and Celegorm leaned forward, interested.

“Oromë is the best recruiter we never hired. Every person he sends our way ends up being a prize. I know, once upon a time, Manwë pushed for us to hire him full-time to work for the foundation, but he refused. Always liked doing his own thing, finding his own path. But maybe now,” Eonwë’s smile flickered quicksilver over his face, “maybe if we offered now, he’d be more inclined to take it. At any rate, the program has benefitted from his finds for years. In fact, I’m pretty sure we just took on another one of his referrals.” Eonwë nodded at a bulletin board they were passing, where pictures of employees were pinned up alongside brief bios. “You probably know him.” Eonwë continued down the hall, not noticing that Celegorm had stumbled and then stopped dead, staring at a picture on the bulletin board. “I believe he was your year at Beleriand?”

So much reserve must make you wild

Chapter Summary

A fight, a reconciliation of sorts, and a picnic. Also crawdads and Finwions playin’ tunes.

Chapter Notes

0. Warnings for certain people coping with emotion and insecurity in self-destructive and unhealthy ways, and a big blow-out fight.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Celegorm slammed through Oromë’s front door, and Oromë looked up from where he was chopping onions for dinner. “Hey, how’d the interview go?”

He took in Celegorm’s expression and his face fell. “Not well?”

“It went fine,” Celegorm said tersely. “I’ll probably be getting a call in about a week.”

“That’s great!” But Oromë hesitated, looking at Celegorm’s rigid shoulders. “You don’t seem very happy about it.”

“What do I have to be happy about?”

“That seems like a rhetorical question. Or at least, I hope it is.” Oromë wiped his knife carefully on a cloth before setting it down. “Why does a prospect at your dream job give you nothing to be happy about?”

“Guess who I’ll be working with?” snarled Celegorm. “Guess who will be my fucking co-worker if they hire me?”

“Wh – ”

“Mablung.” Celegorm cursed and tore angrily at his cuffs, shucking his collared shirt as if it was burning his skin. “Mablung, that motherfucker who gave me hell for four years and who – god damn this fucking shirt – and who has to be working at the only place I’ve ever actually wanted to work – because of you.”

“What?” Oromë crossed the kitchen just as Celegorm finally freed himself of the hated shirt and threw it across the room. “He’s working there? I didn’t know he was applying...”

“Cut the bullshit!” snapped Celegorm. “Eonwë told me that Mablung’s another one of your finds, another one of your favorites – he’s there because of your recommendation!”

“Oh.” Realization dawned on Oromë’s face. “Yes, I suppose that must be it. I did write him a letter for his file, but I didn’t know what job he was applying for. I wrote him a general character reference that he could use as he pleased, and kept it intentionally non-specific. I honestly didn’t know he’d be applying at the Preserve, though it shouldn’t surprise me, you two were in the same program and studied the same – ”

“You wrote him a reference?” Celegorm exploded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Oromë stared at him. “I had no idea you would be interested.”

Celegorm dragged a hand through his hair, pacing the kitchen. “When did this happen?”

“This summer, not so long ago. Last month, I think.”

“So he got in touch, just out of the blue, and what then?”

“Well, the first I heard from him was when he came over and I – ”

“He was here? In your house? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Yes, he was here, but Tyelko, calm down. You weren’t there, you didn’t have to see him or interact with him…”

“How could you – How could you write him, of all people – How could you help – ”

“How could I help one of the players I coached for four years?” Oromë’s eyebrows raised. “It’s part of what I have always done. I’ve written references for any number of my players, when asked. I always figure it’s the least I can do.”

“But you know who he is! You know how I feel about him!”

“I do,” said Oromë slowly. “But just because the two of you disliked each other and had a rivalry doesn’t mean that I dislike him.”

Celegorm laughed bitterly. “So you like him, huh. Enough to get him a job?”

“I’ve helped lots of the players I coached,” said Oromë in some frustration. “It’s part of my job.”

“I’m glad you’re so helpful.” Celegorm sneered. “It’s so heartwarming to see you help out the guy who called me a whore for being with you.”

Oromë started. “He did what?”

“Oh yeah, after you told the team about us. Fun story, that was: he called me a whore for sucking your cock, and implied that I did for preferential treatment.” Celegorm still had on a bright, dangerous smile, but his voice was thick with anger. “Told me I ruined your career and the team because I was such a slut, oh yeah, he really let me know what he thought of me because he’s such a stand up guy, that Mablung. And after that, apparently he has the fuckin’ nerve to go to you for help, and it sounds like he was confident that you’d give it to him. Huh, wonder why that was?”

“Probably because I’ve never said no to someone asking for a reference,” said Oromë slowly, “but hang on, Tyelko, he really said – ”

“Never said no, eh? You know, I bet I wasn’t the first to want more from you.” Celegorm stared at Oromë, his arms folded. “What have you said no to? Have you had other players you’ve coached want you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that he had – ”

“Have you had other players want you?”

Oromë’s eyes flickered briefly. “Yes, probably. But you know you’re the only one I ever – ”

Celegorm swallowed convulsively. “You think he – Mablung – ever wanted you?”

“I don’t know.” Oromë struggled for a moment. “I suspected something, once or twice. But that’s not really relevant in terms of my helping him or not. I’ve done this, as I’ve said, countless times, and it’s not a matter of what the player in question feels towards me, it’s a matter of if I can honestly vouch for their character, and I generally can. But I never knew he said those things to you.” His breathing had deepened, as if he was trying to calm himself, and his fingers curled on the counter. “He really called you – ”

“Whatever,” said Celegorm tonelessly. “Is dinner gonna be ready soon? I’m fucking starving.”

They ate in near silence, Oromë trying to return to normal conversation even as Celegorm brooded.

“How did the rest of the interview go?”

“Fine.”

“What were the people you talked to like?”

“Fine.” Celegorm pushed his food around his plate. “That Eonwë is kind of weird.”

“Oh?”

“He asked some things.” Celegorm stared at his plate. “About my dad.”

Oromë frowned. “Surely that wasn’t relevant to your interview. That doesn’t seem appropriate to bring up.”

“That’s what I thought, but I dunno, it was like he thought I was there for some other reason. He dropped it pretty quick. But he was a little… I dunno about him.”

“I’ve always liked Eonwë,” said Oromë thoughtfully, “but – ”

“Always liked him, have you?” Celegorm’s temper flared up again out of nowhere. “Another fucker who doesn’t trust my motives, did you get him his job too?”

“No. I didn’t mean that I thought he was in the right, Tyelko, why are you – ”

“Forget it,” snapped Celegorm, pushing back from the table. “I’m not hungry, okay?”

He retreated to the bedroom, and Huan followed him, holding a toy hopefully in his mouth. With much whining and pleading eyebrows, Huan got Celegorm to engage in a sullen game of tug of war, but Huan gave up after a few attempts, and Celegorm slumped back on the bed, his arms crossed over his chest. Oromë came into the room and paused in the doorway, looking at Celegorm. Then he crossed the room to sit on the bed next to Celegorm and touched his cheek gently.

“You had a good interview,” he said softly. “That’s something, isn’t it? I know it threw you to find out about who you’d be working with, and anyone would be riled by Eonwë prying about their motives, but baby, you had a good interview, and you’re almost certainly going to get a job offer out of it. This is worth being proud of, even if you don’t end up taking it.”

“Why wouldn’t I take it?”

“You seem a little ambivalent about your future co-workers.”

Celegorm snorted. “I’ve been forced to spend time around people I don’t like before.”

“Tyelko,” said Oromë, his hand still cupped to Celegorm’s cheek, “I didn’t know about those things Mablung said. If I had…” He trailed off.

Celegorm looked at him skeptically. “Wouldn’t have helped him out, would you?”

Once again, Oromë appeared to struggle. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “On a personal level, I want to tear the head off anyone who talks like that to you, but I also…I suspect he was reacting from a place of resentment and confusion and shock, and he didn’t really – ”

“Are you kidding me?” Celegorm ducked Oromë’s hand and surged to his feet. “You’re defending him!”

“I’m not! I’m not, I swear. I just think I understand where that kind of invective might have been coming from…”

“That makes it okay, huh?”

“No, it doesn’t. It’s not okay, and no one has a right to say those kind of things about you. You know none of it is true, right?” Oromë stretched out an arm for Celegorm, but Celegorm stepped out of his reach.

“You spend a lot of time thinking about people. Helping them out.”

Oromë dropped his arm to his side, finally looking exasperated. “Is that a bad thing? I’ve helped you, too, I hope.”

“Yeah! But you’re fucking me.”

Oromë’s face was suddenly inscrutable. “Are you implying I only help you because I’m sleeping with you?”

“No, but – Look, I should get to fuckin’ veto certain motherfuckers coming to your house. ‘Cos if you help me, and you help him, what’s the difference between us?”

“I can’t help anyone who’s not you? For Christ’s sake, Tyelko, the difference between you and Mablung is that I love you.” Oromë threw his hands up. “And that you love me back, presumably.”

Celegorm didn’t answer. He was pacing again, Huan watching him with worried eyes. “You don’t know that he doesn’t have feelings for you too.”

“Does it matter? I don’t make decisions about who to help based on whether I think they have a crush on me, I make them based on – ”

Celegorm wasn’t listening. “I know the difference between me and Mablung. I’m the one who made a move. I turned up in your bed.”

“What’s your point?”

“So the only difference between me and Mablung is that I let you know I was interested and he didn’t.”

Oromë was looking more and more frustrated. “I feel like this is getting off topic. What do Mablung’s hypothetical feelings or actions towards me have to do with any of this? And let me repeat that the difference between you two is that you’re the person I’m in love with.”

Celegorm didn’t look at him. “Maybe if he’d done what I did, you’d be with him instead. Would you have? Would you have hooked up him if he made a move on you? You clearly don’t have a problem with fucking your players.”

“Are you kidding me?” Now Oromë sounded utterly disbelieving, and there was true anger and hurt in his voice.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s not a question I thought I’d ever hear from you. Why are you even bringing this up? Why – ” Oromë sounded like he was struggling to keep his voice down. “I don’t understand.”

The tone in his voice threw Celegorm even further into fury. “So now you’re getting mad? What right do you have to be pissed?”

“What right – ” Oromë’s eyes flashed and he stood up at last. “Listen to what you’re accusing me of! After all we’ve been through, after all this time, you don’t trust me! And what you think I’m apparently capable of…” His voice was low and very fierce. “You simultaneously throw our relationship in my face as a reason I can’t support anyone but you, which is truly fucked up logic, by the way, and then you turn around and use our involvement as evidence of my lack of moral judgment. I know I have to expect that kind of assumption from everyone from the university to your parents, but forgive me if I thought I wouldn’t have to face such judgment from my lover. Do you really think I was so eager to fuck any young thing that spread himself over my bed? Do you really think the only reason I’m with you was that I had the opportunity? Because you were a good lay and you threw yourself at me? You think that’s the reason I’ve spent the last two years with you, simply because I could.”

Celegorm glared at him and said nothing.

“And on top of all this, you seem to think the only motive I could possibly have for supporting someone I coached for four years must be carnal. God, Tyelko, forgive me for hoping you thought better of me than that!”