[Celebrimor's breath slowly trickled out with those words in a puff of air too harsh or bitter to ever be mistaken for a laugh.] I never said they sent me off with blessings. [The burst of pain as his father's knuckles, hardened by war slammed into his cheek was a memory outlined in fire, and his uncle's curses rang in his ears, echoing the in confines of his skull. Weak-willed ingrate! Spineless coward, useless trash. Traitor.

Traitor

Celebrimbor blinked, and shook his head a little, as if to clear his mind of the memories that on bad days dogged his footsteps. His features hardened.]

But they could hardly stop me without killing me. And even Celegorm couldn't stomach spilling the blood of a nephew. [The hard mask spasmed for a moment before Celebrimbor got himself back under control.]