Warnings: Possible AU (it probably didn’t happen this way, but I got an image in my mind and wanted to write it)
Disclaimer: Middle-earth is not mine and I make no profit therefrom.
Celebrimbor stands with the others to hear the returned prisoners’ story. Beren wept for Finrod, he thinks, as my father did not. A reckless impulse stirs within him.
He watches the faces of the crowd, how they lean toward the speakers; he remembers listening to his father and uncle as they examined every aspect of Nargothrond for weaknesses. He imagines setting a metal peg in a small crack of a rock face, then swinging the hammer to split it neatly apart.
He moves through the crowd, speaking softly. And the power in Nargothrond slides gently back from Celegorm to Orodreth.