"Curumo." The voice was calm and firm and unmistakably Olórin's. "Curumo, look at me."

Curumo tilted his head upward to meet kind grey eyes. "What are you doing here?" He tried not to sound like he'd been crying and nearly succeeded, but the tears that were still welling up in dark brown eyes ruined the illusion. "Lord Aulë doesn't usually let others into this courtyard."

Olórin smiled, soft and gentle. "He thought you might need help."

Aulë was right, and Curumo knew it. But that didn't make it easier to hear that he'd been so obvious. He didn't say anything, but his shoulders slumped forward.

"Was he wrong?" Olórin asked. "If you don't want me here, I'll go."

Curumo shook his head, red hair falling from where he'd tied it up at the back of his neck. "Please stay." He hated how broken his voice sounded, but by this point it didn't matter anymore.

Olórin took one hand, curled his fingers around Curumo's palm. "I will."

••••••

"It's my fault," Curumo whispered into Olórin's chest. He moved his cheek from where it was pressed into the quilt and looked up to meet Olórin's gaze. "That he left."

Olórin shook his head. "It isn't," he said. "There was nothing you could have done," and he spoke softly but Curumo could tell he meant it. "You loved him, you still do, I saw, and I know it hurts. But it's not your fault."

He was too tired to think at the moment, so he didn't try, just closed his eyes and pressed closer to the warmth of Olórin's body. "Stay," he said, though there was never any doubt that Olórin would.

••••••

Aulë leaned into his Maia's chambers, meeting Olórin's eyes. 'Is he okay?' he mouthed. He'd given Curumo a few days off after Mairon had left, but Curumo had still seemed pretty shaken.

Olórin nodded, then shook his head. His chin rested lightly on Curumo's head. 'He will be,' he decided.

It wasn't perfect, but it was enough. Aulë left the room, gently shutting the door behind him.