Beleg and Turin were making one of their rare visits to Menegroth and intended to spend it with Mablung.
Taking the familiar route to their friend's talan, the two stopped by a winery and purchased a large bottle of a Miruvor that they knew Mablung would appreciate.
They climbed up the ladder effortlessly and saw their friend unmoving, lying face down in the bed that could've belonged to an elfling.
Mablung's arms and lower body was dangling off the bed and sprawled out at odd angles on the floor.
Turin didn't know whether to smile or not. The hunter truly looked pitiful and in quite an uncomfortable position.
"Ha cuiol?" wondered Beleg aloud
Turin shrugged, and setting the potent liquor down on the floor for lack of a table, walked up to their friend and prodded him in the small of the back.
When there was no response, Turin began to feel Beleg's worry.
"Goheno nin." he whispered to the unconscious Mablung, and with Beleg's help, flipped the hunter over and onto the floor.
That woke him up.
With a shout Mablung's face made contact to the splintered floor of his minuscule talan.
The relieved Beleg and Turin were biting back bursts of laughter.
"Mellon nin," said Beleg, while Turin pulled up Mablung, "Thingol is underpaying you, for all the work you have done, you should at least have a bed that is at least two thirds your size and a place that won't fall over if a squirrel lands in the wrong spot"
"Don't I know it." grumbled Mablung, he however lightened up when he saw the liquor on the floor, "hannon le."
Beleg smiled jokingly, "We're fine by the way."
"Mablung looked up, "Oh yeah, anything interesting?"
Turin rolled his eyes, "Is there ever? We stalked an orc for a few days and killed it. Repeat process."
"Come on," reasoned Mablung, "You're keeping Menegroth safe so those like me who only has to chase around a giant Silmaril crazed ferocious wolf around once every few centuries can sleep in."
"That sure makes me feel important." grumbled Turin
Breaking up the morose talk, Beleg dramatically opened the Miruvor and pulled out three glasses,
"None for me thanks," said Turin, "I got myself a Strongbow."
Beleg looked confused, "huh?"
Mablung also looked questioningly at his edain friend.
"Beleg was named after a cider." said Turin
Beleg raised an eyebrow, "are you sure they didn't name a cider after me?"
Turin opened the glass bottle and took a long drink, he then handed it to Mablung who read the label carefully,
"I don't see any mention about Beleg, so he must be named after the cider."
"Wait, what that's it? It's settled, I am no longer the best archer, I am now a cider?"
Mablung and Turin both nodded,
"Yup, sorry mellon nin but you're a cider." said Mablung
"dibs on Belthronding?" asked Turin shyly
"No way!" exclaimed Beleg, "you guys've been intoxicated or something, no way am I named after a cider. There is no way that this cider is older than I am."
"Actually," said Mablung looking at the label again, "it says right here "ever since before the beginning or Arda."
"That's ridiculous." groaned the Strongbow, grabbing for the bottle.
Mablung handed it to him and Beleg read the label.
"See Beleg," said Turin, "you're a cider, there's no use denying it."
Translations:
Ha cuio?/Is it alive?
Goheno nin/Forgive me
Mellon nin/My friend
Hannon le/Thank you