I wrote this ages ago and then never posted it because I was very aware of how little I knew about making jewelry or smithing. I am posting it anyways because it's short and sweet and I enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or concepts mentioned herein.

Narvi, as usual, found Celebrimbor's forge unlocked. She entered warily, but there was no need.

It was empty.

The candles were spluttering to an end, but the room was still warm with forge-fire; he must have just finished. Narvi shook her head fondly at the messy desk in the corner, juxtaposed by the impeccable toolbox on the other side of the room.

Organization never had been Celebrimbor's strong suit.

A sheaf of papers sat on Celebrimbor's desk, loosely sorted into what might have been piles. Curious, Narvi approached them. They were clearly designs of some sort; she could recognize Celebrimbor's feather-light charcoal drawings anywhere.

I wonder, she thought, why he's forging rings?

Something lying on one of the papers glittered, drawing her eye.

A ring.

Curiously, Narvi reached out and picked it up. It was made of silver and mithril, delicately spun to look like a ring of blossoms.

It was strangely warm to the touch.

Narvi twisted it in her hands, wondering if it would fit any of her fingers, when a loud crash interrupted her.

Whirling around, she found Celebrimbor, still sooty from the forge, standing in the doorway with scrolls littered about his feet.

"Narvi!" he exclaimed, dismayed, "What are you doing here?"

Narvi's eyebrows quirked up. "What are you doing working so late at night?"

Celebrimbor's amber eyes dropped to her hands, and his face flushed. "Oh no, Narvi, put that down."

She looked down at the ring, at the way the candlelight glittered off its facets. "Why? It's very pretty, for such an Elvish thing."

"It's terrible," Celebrimbor said unhappily. He kicked his scrolls against the wall and strode over to her. His nimble fingers snatched it easily from her grip, and his brow creased as he examined it. "Look at it, Narvi."

Narvi looked at it. True, it wasn't quite as technically complex as some of Celebrimbor's other pieces, and it didn't scream Celebrimbor the way his other jewelry did, but Narvi didn't see anything wrong with it. "It's, ah, nice."

Celebrimbor made a disgruntled noise. "It's terrible. I don't know why I thought silver would be able to hold heat."

Confused by that—as they both knew that silver could hold quite a bit of heat—Narvi blinked at him.

He made a face and took her hand. Narvi was suddenly aware of her clammy palms and his warm fingers and tried desperately to ignore the heat in her cheeks. Oblivious, Celebrimbor slid the ring onto her finger. For a second, Narvi thought the heat in her skin was from Celebrimbor's proximity.

But then the heat flared surprisingly hot and she yelped, jerking her hand free. Just as suddenly, the heat faded and she was left with a slight chill. "What in Mahal's bloody hammer—"

"Do you see what I mean?" Celebrimbor asked, holding out a hand. She quickly tore the ring from her finger and dropped it into his palm.

"Is that Annatar's enchanting?" Narvi asked, her alarm fading slightly, "The thing he was talking about over dinner a couple nights ago?"

Celebrimbor nodded. "Yes, but it's terrible. The magic makes the metal react in strange ways, and the enchantments never turn out right."

"What was that one supposed to do?" she asked, amused at the idea of two master smiths panicking in the forge.

"It's meant to keep one warm in the snow, but I shouldn't have used silver." Celebrimbor tossed the ring glumly onto his desk. "Next time, I will use gold."

"Fascinating," Narvi said, although she'd stopped paying attentiin. "Khalebrimbur, do you know what would be useful? Rings enchanted to bring light."

He stared at the ring for a moment longer, distracted, before turning to her. "What?"

"Rings that shine," she said, used to his wandering focus, "Think about it. We could send them down to the miners, and—"

Celebrimbor's amber eyes lit up. "And less fire in the mines would mean less explosions! And a miner can use a ring and still have a free hand—"

"To mine and work," Narvi finished, an identical grin spreading beneath her beard, "Silver would catch that easily, I presume."

"Or a crystal of some sort," Celebrimbor agreed, "Perhaps . . . calcite?"

"No, clear quartz should be enough," Narvi said slowly, "Although I don't pretend to know much about elf magic."

But Celebrimbor was nodding eagerly. "No, quartz would be perfect! The band wouldn't need to hold light at all."

Narvi laughed and grabbed one of the loose papers on the desk to begin sketching. "It would have to be Dwarvish in design, because the geometric patterns—"

"—could reflect the light within the ring itself and amplify it." Celebrimbor leaned over her to watch as she worked. "But would it be strong enough to withstand the work of the miners?"

"The band would need to sit flush with the skin," Narvi agreed, "without any embellishments or angles for stray cloth to catch on."

"So set the crystal within the ring." Celebrimbor grabbed a stick of charcoal and began drawing on the same paper. Their sketches flowed around each other, designs half-finished and abandoned in a heartbeat beside scribbled notes, Elvish Tengwar mixing interchangeably with the more Dwarvish Cirth. "There should be a mechanism to shield the light, should the miners ever need to."

"Like a hood?" Narvi asked.

"Like a hood," he agreed. His hand faltered, and she nearly finished writing her note onto his sleeve. "Have you ever seen the poppies in the field north of the city? Their petals unfurl in the daytime. If we could rig up a similar system—"

"—except with the ability to trigger it mechanically—"

"—and the petals could unfurl into the ring itself—"

"—and your Elvish smithing would be able to do that very prettily and securely, whereas—"

"—your Dwarvish elements would use the crystal to its maximum ability!"

They stared at each other, both bright-eyed and grinning broadly, and Narvi had to fight back the absurd desire to kiss him. This was her favorite thing about her late night visits to Celebrimbor's forge.

The breathlessness, the excitement, the passion.

She loved it.

She loved him.

Narvi sat down on his chair and put her pencil down. Suddenly overcome with the sheer adoration she felt for this moment, for him, she could think of nothing else to say.

The bright excitement in Celebrimbor's face softened into fondness, and he reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "Thank you for coming tonight, meldenya."

Narvi didn't want to know what her expression was, in that moment. She was sure that it was something silly and utterly besotted. "Of course. Somebody has to come to remind you that even elves need their sleep—or whatever passes for sleep for you."

He laughed, softly and giddily. "I suppose it's late?"

Her own smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She was painfully aware of his fingers, which lingered still at her cheek. "Very late. Clean yourself up and head home."

"Of course," Celebrimbor said, although he didn't move.

The moment stretched on, and Narvi was again struck by the foolish desire to kiss him. In the end, Celebrimbor's fingers fell away from her face and he stooped to press a soft kiss to her brow. "Good night, meldanya. I shall see you again tomorrow."

Narvi's smile turned crooked, and she agreed, "Aye, and we shall pitch our new ring idea to your friend Annatar."

"Yes," Celebrimbor agreed, clearly satisfied with that idea.

With one last look into his bright amber eyes, Narvi dropped down from her chair and left the smithy.

meldenya = my friend

meldanya = my beloved

(find me at azaisya on tumblr)