Chapter Text
The girl was stubborn, she refused to yield, no matter how much they tried. Even if she were small, her mind had been made up, and unfortunately for them, it was not in their favour. Refusal to give a name was not an issue Caranthir or any of his brothers had to deal with before. Let alone the fact that they could not quite intimidate her into revealing information, such as with traitorous men or hideous orcs. No, even they would not stoop that low, no matter what others thought of them.
"We cannot just keep calling her the girl," Celegorm stated. It seemed the girl had started to make her way into his mind as well, unlike with Curvo.
"And why should we do that? She does not wish for us to address her, so we won't," his little brother hissed. He did not seem to like the girl, yet Caranthir still questioned why that was.
"I doubt she wishes for us to refer to her as 'the girl' or 'the human' as well."
"It is not like she will ever figure it out."
"Moryo agrees with me, don't you?" Tyelko asked, for once, taking his attention away from Curvo, where he was busy cutting vegetables with great precision.
"I do, but Curufin does make a point. She did not give us her name because she does not trust us. Is forcing a name on her truly a good solution?"
"Of course," his voice carried no trace of doubt, "we will give her a name just as sweet as she is, and when she finally trusts us, she will appreciate it."
Curufin only scoffed at that statement, he was certainly not impressed with Tyelko, or him for that matter. Still, Caranthir did not find himself caring too much. The attitude his little brother had been having towards the child was slightly concerning, but he also knew he was wary. Never was his brother quick to let someone close to him, certainly not someone such as the girl who was bound to hurt them one way or the other.
"What kind of name would that be?" Caranthir asked, scared to even know the answer. Tyelkormo was never great at naming things, Huan being a prime example of that.
"Hmm, how about Lissenettë?"
"Sweet girl? Absolutely not, she is not a hound you can praise and trick into submission with treats," Curufin defended, just in time to cut off Caranthir's own less than kind remark.
"Hey! She is no pet."
"You don't need to tell us, it seems more like you need to be convinced of that."
"That is unfair Curufinwë, Moryo has been much worse than I."
"I know, and it is making me sick every time I see him fuss over her. But, at least he realises she isn't a hound but a child, albeit not his."
"Say that again Curufin, I dare you!" in an instant all of Caranthir's earlier calm was replaced with rages as he felt his face flush hot. He shouted and shot up from the wall he had been leaning against making his way over to his brother at the kitchen island. His hand caught the fabric of his brother's tunic and yanked him towards himself until the prick was finally forced to look him in the eyes.
"You are coddling the girl, but you need to realise she is not yours to claim. The moment she is healed, she will leave you the second she can, and your ego will be bruised once more. Taking care of one little human will not change the fact that you have taken more lives with the same hands than nurtured," his little brother hissed out.
"And who else is here to claim her? I see no family, no friends, absolutely nobody to care for her. All I see is a small girl, all alone in a building that is falling apart at the seams. Regardless of the fact that she is injured or not, she needs help," maybe Caranthir was getting too caught up in this, he had only gone downstairs to fetch the child some dinner, "as for bruised egos, I am not the one with a failing marriage who compensates for it by lashing out at anybody but his wife because she refuses to see him."
"Take that back Caranthir, I swear to father, take that back," now that seemed to have finally pissed his brother off for good. The grip on the knife Curvo had been using to cut vegetables tightened to the point that Caranthir could see his knuckles go white.
"Both of you stop this!" Celegorm barked out, physically dragging Caranthir back. "Morifinwë, you should not have brought up Curvo's wife, that was low. And Curufin, for the love of father, please have some empathy, it is not the girl's fault we are here. Do you think atya would blame a child for the situation we are currently in?"
Just like his father, Caranthir would never admit he was in the wrong, and it seemed Curufin shared the exact same trait. Just like he shared all the same traits as their father, down to the point of having a ruined marriage as well.
"Fine, both of you just keep acting the same way as when you were children. I will be going upstairs to give Nícalótë her meal."
"Nícalótë," both Caranthis and his little brother asked, their former argument all but forgotten.
"Yes," Tyelko nodded, "since Lissenettë sounds too doglike apparently, I think this suited her better. She smells sweet just like a flower, but she is tiny as well."
"So you're best solution was calling her a little flower?" Caranthir questioned.
"Indeed, and until both of you come up with a better one, that will be her name."
With that, he took the plate meant for the girl, Nícalótë, grabbed some of the vegetables Curufin had been cutting, and made his way out of the room. Both brothers were stunned, not often did Celegorm leave their brothers in favour of someone else, but now he had.
The two of them stared at the door for a good minute before Curufin huffed and opened his mouth to say something. But he never did, instead, Celegorm's voice ran through the house loud and clear: "Nícalótë is gone!"