Atamir, the key and the pearl

"What is that you have to show me uncle?".

They walked down the large corridor from the main hall to the bedroom that once was her parent's. Nothing was out of place, as Earcalie remembered the last time she saw the room.  Deep blue covers on the bed, the walls painted azure so pale it seemed almost white, the furniture made of poplar wood didn't have a single spec of dust. Her uncle opened a drawer, and took out a tiny, velvety box.

"What is that? And why I never knew it was there?"

"Because your mother bade me keep it secret from you until the right moment. Which is now. The box contains something for which you should be grown enough to understand its value".

Earcalie barely let him finish and opened the box. Her expression turned from estatic to disappointed.

"Uncle. Are you mocking me? A dull chain, a broken key and a pearl that looks like it was hosted in a swamp?"

Her uncle sighed. "Don't let me take my words back and call you ignorant. The key belonged to your father, the pearl, to your mother. Why do you think they look so battered and old?"

".......... because... they had them in their youth?"

He nodded. "These relics whitstood the life and fall of Gondolin, they saw the rise of Lindon and the fall of Eregion, and your begetters exchanged them as declaration of their love when they met. Because even if battered and bruised, they endured. This is the message they hoped to convey you, ere they sailed"

Earcalie stared at the trinkets, silent, for a while. Then she raised her head and looked at her uncle.

"If so... then these should not be in this state. They should resplend and be remade, so I can show everyone how strong and deep their legacy is"