@swallowscng liked for a starter
He’s been in Imladris for all of a few hours before annoying one of the guards into directing him to the forges. He’s greeted Elrond Peredhel, one of his few remaining kinsman, but with all the niceties out of the way, he needs to get his hands working and think. Sauron is vanquished, or so he’s been told, but is he really? If he knows Annatar at all, he knows the Dark Lord no doubt has several back up plans and contingencies lurking in the shadows. Evil like his cannot be merely defeated by force of arms. Was the One ever destroyed?
The hammer strikes the anvil with enough force to send vibrations up his arm. He’s missed the lump of silver he’s been working with completely. The sun has started to sink in the time he’s been down here and the smithy is lit only by lanterns and the fire from the forge itself. Perhaps it’s a sign he needs to give it up for the evening. He’s bound to have missed dinner, but if he’s lucky he might beg a morsel from the kitchens. Although... wouldn’t someone have come to fetch him if that was the case?
Celebrimbor nudges past the smiths who normally occupy the space with a muttered apology and makes his way back upstairs with a mind to seek out something to eat and finds himself instead in Imladris’ library filled with relics of past ages and past glory. It’s bittersweet, he feels, gazing upon a banner bearing the crest of Gil-Galad and wonders if there are any traces of his uncles hidden among Elrond’s collection. He shakes himself. It doesn’t do to dredge up old grief and pain, and Elrond certainly wouldn’t appreciate him going and making a mess of his priceless antiques by getting sweat and soot from the forge on them. Well... even if Elrond didn’t, some of his twitchier retainers might take exception.
He pauses by the fresco of the defeat of Sauron and can’t resist the urge to comment on it. “Yes, yes, you look suitably terrifying, Annatar. What if I told everyone about the time you threw a fit because you knocked over a flask and spilled green stain on your robes? What then?”
