Thanks to those in the Garden for the suggestions and edits! And to NiRi for the original beta.

~*~

As the bright light of Laurelin reflected off the blade, Celebrimbor squinted, then winced as the point of the sword pressed against his chest. He inhaled and closed his eyes. His sword was on the ground beside him, knocked from his hands before he was driven to his knees.

“I said stand up!”

Celebrimbor opened his eyes and dragged them up to meet his father’s cold, steel eyes. Exhaling forcefully, he shook his head. “No. This is pointless. I do not need to know how to sword fight in Aman.”

“Do you doubt the words of your grandfather?” Curufin lifted the blade to rest under his chin before raising it further, making Celebrimbor face him.

Celebrimbor jerked away and rose to his feet, leaving his sword where it lay. Frustrated, he turned his back on his father and stormed to a nearby bench.

“Answer me!”

“I do not doubt his words. I doubt Melkor’s. Why would Fingolfin or Finarfin betray their brother? Why does he warn us to create weapons to protect ourselves against our own brethren?” Celebrimbor replied sullenly as he picked up a flagon of water from the bench, his hand shaking with unreleased anger. “Besides, what do you expect me to do? Kill them? Kill one of my own kin?”

Coming up behind him, Curufin’s voice was low. “I expect you do to do whatever it takes. If you cannot stand up to our enemies, no matter their relation, then you are weak. I did not raise a coward.”

Celebrimbor spun and glared at his father. “No, you did not, nor did you raise a fool!” he seethed, as he threw the water down. He had tolerated with his father’s relentless hounding him about becoming a better fighter for weeks. “If and when I have to defend myself, I will.”

“And how do you propose to do that? You cannot defend yourself against me, how do you expect to defend yourself against someone who is intent on killing you.”

“I will not take up arms because a fallen Vala has turned this family to madness. Nor will I die defending three jewels from perceived enemies,” Celebrimbor replied.

Before Curufin could answer him, he pushed past him and stalked from the courtyard into the halls, nearly knocking Maedhros over in the process.

“Forgive me uncle. I…”

“I know. I heard.” Maedhros walked to the open doorway to watch his brother. “I understand how you feel, Celebrimbor. Maglor and I both feel that Atar is putting too much faith in Melkor’s words.” His eyes turned to his nephew and Celebrimbor could see the sadness in them. “The Silmarils are wondrous creations, but I do not think any jewel is worth all of this...this…madness. But as long as Finwë does nothing to restrain Atar, we must appease him somewhat. I fear that if we do not, it will be seen as betrayal and we will be the enemies as well.”

After a few moments of silence, Maedhros said, “I will teach you.”

“But…”

“I will teach you,” Maedhros repeated before putting his hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “If you never need to use it, then it is only time we are wasting. But if your father continues teaching you, I fear his temper will drive you away, like it did your mother. And like Atar drove away Ammë.”

Celebrimbor nodded, looking down as Maedhros continued. “We must temper this madness with reason. I cannot afford to lose you in the process. I need your support and level headedness now more than ever.”