Chapter Text
Celebrimbor lay dreaming. It was an odd dream, not frightening precisely, but odd. Rings sparkled in torchlight, reflecting the light and intensifying it. Celebrimbor recognized the Rings, as he'd helped make many of them. The Rings of Power.
He smiled as he recognized Elcaran's first effort, the Ring that could only locate lead. It had been supposed to find mithril, but no such luck. They'd all smiled and told him to pay more attention to the ultrafine structures next time. He recognized the three he had made most recently: Vilya, Nenya and Narya. The light waxed and waned, and began to spread out in a network that connected all the Rings. It was beautiful, but something was wrong.
The web of light grew stronger and brighter, and Celebrimbor noticed something else: while the Rings were connected to each other, each one of them was connected to something else as well, and the light appeared to be being pulled towards that thing. That had not been in the design. Celebrimbor reached out mentally and tried to touch the Rings. He received a sharp mental shock for his efforts.
He opened his eyes to find himself in his bed at home. Yet the feeling of wrongness did not diminish. Instead, it increased. Thoroughly alarmed now, Celebrimbor concentrated on the Rings on his hand, but most especially on the blue Ring, Vilya. He listened... and the feeling of wrongness increased tenfold. There was a malignant awareness that was drawing power and information from the Rings to itself, and pushing back something else towards the Rings. Furious, Celebrimbor reached out along the link as far as he could. He heard a voice speaking a language he had never heard before:
"Ash nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatuluk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul"
The voice was menacing, cruel, and cold, filled with hatred and a desire to control. Despite the strange language the meaning was clear: one Ring to rule them all, one Ring to bind them, one Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them. Celebrimbor pulled harder along the link and received a brief glimpse of a face that he knew. Annatar. Annatar laughing and with a fell light in his eyes. Shocked, Celebrimbor lost the link. He tried to regain it, but it had gone dormant and he could not find it.
It did not make any sense; Annatar had helped make the Rings, had always been such a good friend -- why was he doing this? They had trusted him! Celebrimbor had trusted him! How dare he?
Celebrimbor shook his head. What could this mean? The Rings had been Annatar’s idea in the first place; the elves would probably not have made them otherwise. He knew all the Gwaith-i-Mirdain’s secrets... And he was pulling information from the Rings. He’d know everything the Elves of Ost-in-Edhil did, everything they thought, every defense they designed against him! He might even be able to control the elves through them. He must have been planning to betray Celebrimbor all along.
Celebrimbor's gaze dropped to his hands. He must get them off now and isolate them. He removed the Rings, dropping them onto the rug. They lay scattered, still beautiful and looking deceptively innocent.
He didn't want to touch them. Yet what to do with them? He still had the old isolation box somewhere for handling accidents... would that be enough to isolate them? It had not been designed for magical objects so powerful. Celebrimbor unhooded the lantern, and padded across the room to the old chest of drawers in the corner. He found the little lead box at the back of the bottom drawer. He really ought to have been keeping it somewhere more accessible, but when was the last time he had had an accident here?
He opened the box and made a depression with his finger in the activated charcoal, then carefully wrapped a hankerchief around Narya before dropping it in the box. He did the same with the other two Rings, and then closed the lid, locking it down to seal it properly.
Now what? He must warn the others. How many people were there in Ost-in-Edhil wearing Rings? 19 Great Rings. Celebrimbor had three of those right here, but how many lesser Rings were there? He had no idea. They had made so many when they were experimenting, only some of which actually worked. Celebrimbor moved the lantern so he could take a look at the clock. It was 2:00 am. He could take time to think.
The Gwaith-i-Mirdain were going to have to track down all the Rings and persuade people to take them off. How? They weren’t going to want to, and if Annatar was controlling them through the Rings... Celebrimbor had always been thankful he did not have his father's ability to sway a crowd -- one temptation less – but he now had a problem. Not all of the Rings were in Ost-in-Edhil either; he know people took some to Lindon but didn’t know who had them – At least those were all lesser Rings. He hoped.
Celebrimbor knew Durin had a great Ring, because he’d given it to him. He didn't think Galadrial had one. Gil-galad didn't, did he? Surely not. What about his court and advisers... Elrond? Elrond was against Annatar so firmly from the beginning that it was unlikely he’d changed his mind, but it was near-certain that somebody in Gil-galad's court had at least one of the lesser Rings.
Celebrimbor was going to have to go and tell Gil-galad what had happened. Celebrimbor groaned. Perhaps he should stay here and try to fix this first? There must be a way to remove the contamination from the Rings. But how much damage might be done while he searched for a way to fix this?
Had anyone else realized what Annatar had done? If anyone else had heard it, it would be Elcaran. The younger elf had made nearly as many Rings as Celebrimbor.
Celebrimbor shoved his feet into slippers, grabbed his cloak from the peg on the door, picked up the lantern and headed along the hall, down the stairs and then out the main door. He turned to look about him. The night looked the same as ever, with the Moon setting behind the trees in the west. No one would think the world had just been turned upside down.
Celebrimbor strode down the street towards the house where Elcaran and his wife lived.