I'd want to credit nólemë for proof-reading! Thank you!
Banished from Nargothrond: the story of Curufinwë and Tyelkormo. Inspired by the Lay of Leithian, and the notes and comments for it by JRRT and CRRT.
For the sake of conveniency for the readers, this fic is split into chapters.
Many names are Quenyan, thus:
Curufinwë Atarinkë "Curvo" = Curufin
Turkafinwë Tyelkormo "Turko / Tyelko" = Celegorm
Nelyafinwë Maitimo Russandol "Nelyo" = Maedhros
Kanafinwë Macalaurë "Káno" = Maglor
Morifinwë Carnistir "Moryo" = Caranthir
the Ambarussa = Amrod & Amras
Telperinquar = Celebrimbor
Findaráto Ingoldo = Finrod
Findekáno = Fingon
Artaresto = Orodreth
Ireth = Aredhel
Moringotto = Morgoth
epessë = additional given name; "nickname"
Who can tell which of us was at a worse mood, my brother or me. He had lost his hound and his best friend as well as the maiden he had loved. I had lost my son and a dwarf-made knife I had gotten from my brother. Now, I am not selfish, and I will not claim that leaving behind my only son is something to be compared to losing an earthly possession, no matter how hard it would be for me to find a knife as good.
But what was more, this time we had both been humiliated. A pride of a Noldo is high indeed, and if it is wounded then we are hurt also. We both had been driven forth from the very halls of our cousin, as if we were but mere beggars and thieves instead of the noble princes of the eldest line that we truly are. I had been defeated by a mortal. I had fought against him, and survived only because his Elven lover had interfered. My brother had been humiliated when his hound had turned against him and helped the very same mortal. Our only source of comfort was now that that mortal and his elven friend were now travelling to the realm of Moringotto, and the Vala would certainly take care of the revenge. Though, as I looked at my brother's face it was grey with sorrow. I guess he still cared too much of that maiden to wish for her death.
"It will start raining soon,"I commented looking up at the sky. He nodded, but said nothing as he pulled up his hood.
We were travelling North. Before the war, we had lived there, and now we intended to visit our brothers Maitimo and Macalaurë who still resided there on the hill of Himring. As good elder brothers they would be sure to invite us in when we arrived with our tails between our legs. I had yet no idea, though, how to explain to them why we had left Nargothrond or why Huan no longer accompanied Tyelkormo. The hardest part would still be explaining the arrival of the troops I strongly believed that Thingol of Doriath would send. Was it my brother's fault that the daughter of Thingol escaped with the mortal Beren? The only thing he had done was to offer Lúthien all honour he was capable of giving. I hadn't yet pointed out to my brother that attempting to marry the daughter of Thingol was his dumbest move ever so far. As if we hadn't been told that Thingol would rather sell away all his lands, than even look at a Noldo!
Himring welcomed us warmly. Our brothers were happy to see us, and they were tactful not to ask tidings before they had offered some food and wine. But eventually, when we all sat in one of the more luxurious rooms, Maitimo asked hesitantly how come Huan and Telperinquar hadn't followed us and I had to come up with an idea. Maitimo would eventually find out the truth: whether by the lies of Artaresto, the troops of Thingol, or in one of the letters that Findekáno sends him, he would at some point know it all. Deliberating my reply, I asked for a refill of my glass. Maitimo rested in his grand chair, Macalaurë sat peacefully beside us plucking his harp as he always had done in Valinor, Tyelkormo kept his expression unfathomable so that no one -not even Maitimo- could guess what really troubled him. The comfortable setting was like taken from Aman. I wouldn't have been surprised if father had entered the room. Unfortunately, the time I had won by asking for more wine was soon up, and I faced my elder brothers. I wished that my voice would persuade them into believing in my honesty. I wished they, too, would remember our days in Valinor and see me as the yet young little brother who meant no harm by his mischief.
"I and Telperinquar had a disagreement, and he wished to stay in Nargothrond instead," I said quietly. My brothers looked at me in condolence. Tyelkormo cleared his throat.
"And I had a disagreement with Huan. He follows me no longer," he said. At this our brothers seemed somewhat more perplexed: it was hard for them to imagine Turkafinwë Tyelkormo without his faithful companion. "Huan no longer wished to participate in fulfilling the Oath," Tyelkormo explained, and everybody else nodded in sympathy.
"Neither did Findaráto," I continued. "We had a debate on whether to steal the jewels from Moringotto, or not."
Macalaurë bit his lip. "You are not planning to ambush Thangorodrim. We are not ready. Our forces are not yet strong enough."
"Actually it was Findaráto who would have stolen the Silmarilli, not us," I replied.
Macalaurë was flabbergasted. "Findaráto?" he echoed. "Ingoldo?"
"I would have ruled the troops of Nargothrond for our sake," Tyelkormo cried out. "I had the people in my power, and they had taken me as their lord to guide them to victory. I would have had them fighting on our side! But Artaresto would not let me." His unfathomable expression faltered, and he shook his head so that his fair hair would cover his grief and shame stricken face.
"Did Findaráto want the Silmarilli?" Maitimo gasped. "Did you stop him? You know he can't get them. According to our Oath, none but us can get them."
"Oh, we tried to stop him," I said. "We knew death had to take him if we had met him with the Silmarilli. But his death did not come from our swords," I revealed but could not yet pity him too much. After all, I had warned him.
"He is dead?" Macalaurë breathed, startled so badly that he plucked his harp string so hard it broke. He cursed quietly, but rather for the tidings he heard than for the string. I saw a tear glimmer in his eye.
I nodded. Then I told them what had happened. Even amidst the sorrow, I enjoyed being in the limelight. I told them how Beren had showed up and claimed that our cousin owed him something. I told them of Findaráto who had set out on an impossible mission and Lúthien who had insisted on following them. I told them of Thingol seeking his daughter, but I did not mention what had caused his wrath; I would let my brother tell that, when he felt he wanted to. I told of the news of Findaráto's death, and I told how Nargothrond was in the need of a king who could keep the wolves of Sauron at bay. I outlined briefly how our policies had clashed with those of Artaresto, and explained all disagreements as being probably just caused by the grief of Findaráto's passing. All in all, I told them almost everything, but who could blame me for presenting it to them as though we had merely asked Lúthien to stay in Nargothrond where she would be safe, as if I and my son would still meet some day. But I did not exaggerate on how foolishness had come over Findaráto or how determined he had been in his departure.