A/N: I feel a bit bad making Celegorm the 'villain' of a Caranthir-centred piece again, so let me assure you that I don't think Celegorm is always a little devil towards Caranthir or his brothers in general – just some of the time. When they are children Moryo likes cats and Tyelco likes dogs, and they fight like cats and dogs much of the time.

I don't know anything about mechanical toys, so please suspend your disbelief if my ignorance makes it necessary.

Many thanks to NelyafinweFeanorion for looking this over and spotting my mistakes! Any that remain are probably ones I inserted afterwards while editing.

Brothers and other beasts

Mornings are the time of day when Morifinwë likes his family the least. He is slow to wake up, and his brothers and sometimes even his parents irritate him by behaving noisily when he is still half-asleep and trying to rouse enough to eat his breakfast.

And then at the breakfast table, Maitimo and Macalaurë converse much too spiritedly with each other and with their parents, and Macalaurë often finishes his breakfast first to squeeze in a little practise before leaving for his music lesson. Moryo doesn't understand why he is allowed to do it in the room next to the breakfast room with the door open. There's quite enough noise there already without Macalaurë's playing and singing drifting in.

But the worst source of noise, and the worst irritant of Moryo's mornings, is Tyelcormo. Like his recently given mother-name attests, Tyelco is a morning person, always the first up of the family, even before baby Curufinwë who like most infants is fond of beginning his day early by screaming for food and attention.

Moryo hopes that Curvo will also turn out to be a morning person, or at least that Tyelco will go bang on his door at an unacceptable time before breakfast and no longer on Moryo's, which he still does even though Moryo has shouted at him many times to go away to bother someone else. Maitimo and Macalaurë are not as early risers as Tyelco but they are not quite as grumpy in the mornings as Moryo either.

Which is why Moryo can't understand why Tyelcormo has to bother him, of all people, at the breakfast table on so many mornings. Surely Tyelco should know by now, when Moryo hasn't been a baby for many years, that he wants to eat his porridge and fruit in peace.

'Shut up, Tyelco', he snaps when his next eldest brother asks him for the second time if Moryo will come see the neighbours' puppies with him. 'I already told you, not today. Mama promised to let me try making something of my own on her pottery wheel.'

'Mother isn't home yet, so we could go before she returns if we finish our breakfast quickly', Tyelco says and casts a beseeching look at Athyallë, their nurse who is supervising breakfast this morning. Their parents are at an early meeting with grandfather Finwë at the palace.

Moryo rubs at his eyes that still feel like they want to stay closed, not take in the bright golden light in the breakfast room, and he wishes that Tyelco were not sitting right next to him. 'I told you no. What is wrong with your stupid ears?'

'Boys', warns Athyallë but neither of the quarrelling brothers heeds her warning.

'You're just scared of the puppies, I bet', says Tyelco, his mouth set in a sour, stubborn line. 'You're a little scaredy-cat yourself.'

'I am not!'

'A little red-faced scaredy-cat', Tyelco taunts him.

Moryo clenches his hands into fists and stares hard at his plate of fruit. Mama and Papa have explained that he mustn't let Tyelco's taunting incite him to violence, because hitting one's brother is wrong. Moryo wishes it weren't so very hard not to. Somewhere in the background he can hear the nurse chastising Tyelco and possibly consoling him, but he can't even make out the words through the haze of anger around him.

Then Tyelco makes a meowing noise, apparently not hearing the scolding either, and Moryo swings at him, earning a loud 'Moryo!' from Maitimo and a shocked 'Morifinwë!' from Athyallë.

Moryo's swing only catches Tyelco's shoulder, but he knows it is enough to earn a punishment. He jumps down from his chair to run to his own room; he'd be sent there anyway.

'You're forgetting this!' shouts Tyelco and throws something after him. Moryo turns back to catch it but he is too late and the object falls on the floor with a loud crashing sound that worries Moryo.

Slowly he bends to pick it up. It is the emerald-eyed copper cat that his father gave him on his recent begetting day. The cat is the nicest thing that Moryo owns, and he brought it to the breakfast table because baby Curvo likes watching it in the morning treelight, and because Moryo himself is very proud of it and of his papa's beautiful workmanship.

The cat has a clever mechanism inside by which its tail swishes when one strokes its ears, but as soon as Moryo lifts it from the floor and hears a tinkle he knows it's broken. Despondently he tries anyway, just in case, to make the tail move, but it doesn't. One of the ears is crooked, too.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to', says Tyelco who has also left his place at the table and stands staring, wide-eyed, at his little brother and his broken toy. 'Moryo–'

'I hate you', Moryo shouts at his most hateful brother, and runs to the refuge of his own room.

If there was a lock on his door he would lock it, and indeed he has petitioned is parents for one to be fitted, but they say that he is too young for it.

So Moryo just shuts the door with as loud a bang as he can manage and crawls into the space in the corner between his desk and wardrobe, a spot which is getting too small for him but remains the best hiding place in his room as long as he can squeeze himself in there.

Tears burn at his eyes as he cradles the broken cat in his arms. He promised his father that he would take good care of it, that he was old enough to be trusted with something so precious. And even though it was Tyelco's fault that the cat broke, Moryo knows that father will be disappointed in him as well. If he hadn't lost his temper and hit Tyelco first–

No, he will not cry. He is old enough to not do that, at least. Stubbornly he rubs away the threatening tears and swallows past the lump in his throat, and holds on to his anger instead.

Soon he hears the door of his room opening, and though he can't see the person from his spot in the corner, he guesses who it is.

'Moryo', says Maitimo gently, and his long legs enter Moryo's field of vision.

'Go away.'

'You're upset.' Instead of going away Maitimo sits down in front of Moryo's hiding place and pokes his head in. 'Mother and father are going to be away for a while longer, and Curvo is fussing so the nurse is busy. But I'm here, for a while anyway before I have to leave for my lessons.'

Moryo doesn't say anything, just stares at his own feet that are still clad in slippers because he had been too sleepy to dress properly before breakfast.

'Tyelco apologised, you know, and I sent him to his room as well. He's not going to see those puppies today.'

Unexpectedly this doesn't make Moryo feel any better, and he still doesn't say anything.

Maitimo sighs. 'I'm sure that your cat can be repaired. Father made it, of course he can make it work again.'

'I told you to go away', says Moryo who doesn't want to explain to his eldest brother how it twists his stomach to think of the disappointed look he'll see in their father's eyes when he finds out that Moryo hadn't been responsible and sensible enough to take care of his fine gift.

Surely Maitimo, who excels in his studies and rides as well as grown men and gets along with everyone without ever losing his temper uncontrollably like Moryo seems to do every day, doesn't even know the terrible weight of disappointing Fëanáro.

'I just want to help. Talk to me, Moryo', Maitimo asks, and his kind tone is the only reason Moryo doesn't snarl his answer.

'I don't want to talk', he says. 'Please go to your lessons now, Maitimo.'

A pat on Moryo's knee and Maitimo is gone, though Moryo hears him hesitate for a moment at the door before he strides down the hallway.

The next one to arrive is Macalaurë, stopping by Moryo's room before leaving for his music tutor's house.

He knows Moryo's hiding places as well as Maitimo, but instead of coming to the corner where Moryo still sulks, Macalaurë sits cross-legged on his brother's bed and strums the lute he is already carrying with him.

'Not that song, I don't like it.'

Macalaurë smiles, knowing his irate little brother can't see it. 'Which song, then?'

Moryo tells him, and Macalaurë obediently plays it. At the end of the song he says, 'I'll come home to practise after my lesson. You can come to my room then if you want to listen. Or talk.'

Moryo likes both of his oldest two brothers since they are not as annoying and terrible as Tyelcormo, but he rather prefers Macalaurë because he doesn't try to make him talk, just tells him that he can if he wants to.

'Have a good lesson', Moryo says, his anger slowly evaporating, and Macalaurë plays one last note for him as a goodbye.

Moryo starts thinking about the mechanism inside the cat and whether he could perhaps fix it himself… But he finds himself getting sleepy sitting in his quiet corner now that his anger doesn't burn so hot anymore.

Tyelcormo doesn't come through the door; he arrives by the window that no one has closed after it was opened to let in fresh morning air, and he startles drowsing Moryo.

When he hears the clatter that Tyelco's clambering in through the window and jumping down from the sill makes, Moryo sticks his head out of his hiding place.

'I thought you'd been told to stay in your room', he says grumpily but not very angrily because Tyelco looks very contrite.

'I was. But Maitimo was too busy to remember to lock my window, and Athyallë always underestimates our cleverness. So I escaped that way and came through the garden.' Tyelco takes an apple from his pocket and rolls it along the floor to Moryo's corner. 'You didn't finish your breakfast.'

Moryo takes the apple, wipes it on his shirt and bites into it since he is indeed hungry.

'Are you going to tell on me? That I left my room?' Tyelco plays with the hem of his tunic, pretending not to care.

'Why did you come here?' asks Moryo. The apple is delicious, tangy yet sweet and still warm from the bright light of a late summer's morning.

'I wanted to apologise again. I'm really sorry I broke your cat. I know you care about it a lot, and I didn't mean to break it. I was just really angry.'

'I know.' Moryo touches the copper cat's crooked ear. He knows how Tyelco felt because he was just as angry himself. It's the way they are so similar in this, he and Tyelco, and so different in other ways, that makes it difficult to get along.

'I'm not going to tell on you', he says after a moment, at the same time as Tyelco says, 'I can try to fix it for you–'

Both boys stop speaking; Tyelcormo begins again first. 'If I manage to fix it you won't have to tell Papa.'

'That would be good', says Moryo, even though telling their father would get Tyelco into more trouble than it would him. 'I've been thinking about it myself – you're not that much better at fine mechanics than I am, you know. I have a few tools here in my room, enough to open up the cat, and perhaps we could… but you will get into trouble if someone finds out you're not in your room.'

Tyelcormo looks a little hesitant. 'Maybe I will stay here for just a little while, to help you get started.'

Moryo crawls out of his hiding place and sets the cat on the floor between himself and Tyelco. They investigate the toy and discuss what to do, and soon come to the conclusion that Moryo doesn't have enough tools secreted away in his room to complete the necessary repairs.

'I know where father keeps his home toolbox', Tyelco says with a determined look. 'And it's not in a locked room right now. I can go get what we need from there.'

'If you get caught, you'll be in a lot of trouble', Moryo reminds him. 'Father doesn't like us touching his things without permission.'

'It will be my act of penance to do this for you', says Tyelcormo, mimicking the pompous manner Macalaurë sometimes assumes, and it is almost enough to make Moryo smile for the first time this morning. 'And I am good at sneaking anyway', Tyelco adds.

Moryo opens up the cat while Tyelco is gone and determines that he can probably set the little cogs and gears inside the cat back in place if his brother manages to secure the right tools. But oh, how sad the cat looks split in two. Moryo strokes its shining copper-wire whiskers and promises it that it will be all right again soon.

Tyelco returns after a short time, carrying both the tools and baby Curufinwë.

'What did you bring him here for?' Moryo hisses, quietly because the door is still open. He closes it while Tyelco sets both of his burdens down on the floor.

'I ran into him in the hallway and he grabbed my leg, I had to bring him or he would have started making noise.'

Moryo eyes his baby brother suspiciously but to his relief, Curufinwë doesn't look like he's about to eat the small parts on the floor. He just sits and looks at them keenly, making noises that are almost but not quite words.

'He must have escaped nurse too. But she is going to come looking for him pretty soon, he's too small to be left to wander around the house alone.' Tyelcormo looks rather uneasy now, and Moryo decides to be kind to him.

'You have done your act of penance, you can go back to your own room before Athyallë finds you here', Moryo says. 'I can fix the cat on my own now that I have the tools, and I'll keep an eye on Curvo.'

He has very recently been granted the dubious honour of being allowed to look after the baby on his own for short periods of time. He is not sure whether it is because he has been deemed responsible enough, or because Curvo has grown big enough to not be very easily breakable anymore.

'Good', says Tyelco, and he is on the windowsill before Moryo can even blink. 'I'll see you later', and then he is already gone.

'You are very good at sneaking around, too', Moryo remarks to the baby as he chooses one of the delicate tools and begins to set the little pieces inside the cat in their own places. 'Not good enough to fool mother, of course, since she seems to have eyes on her back. And you never escape from father, do you?'

Curufinwë makes an insistent noise and points at the shiny metal piece in Moryo's hand.

'Do you want to know what this is?' Moryo asks, and Curvo lets out a yelp that could charitably be interpreted as 'yes'.

So Moryo explains what he is doing while he repairs the cat. It takes him much longer to do so than it would his father, but he is confident that he will eventually succeed in getting all the little pieces to stay in the right place at the same time.

That is how the nurse finds them a little later, sitting on the floor with the disembowelled toy cat between them, Curufinwë's bright eyes following every movement of Morifinwë's hands.

'Just don't let him eat any glue', says the nurse, and then the exasperated woman has already left to go do laundry before Moryo can say that he isn't using glue.

'If I was then the mechanism wouldn't work, of course', he explains to Curufinwë instead.

Moryo has just put the halves of the cat's body back together and is testing the tail-swishing mechanism when his father appears at the door.

'How has your morning been, Morifinwë?' Fëanáro frowns but his tone is friendly enough. He joins his sons on the floor and lifts Curufinwë onto his lap. 'I heard that there was some unpleasantness at breakfast.'

'It's fine now.' The cat seems to be in perfect working order, so Moryo lifts his gaze to his father. 'I figured out how the mechanism works, Papa.'

'Did you now? I expected it to take you a while longer. Well done.' Fëanáro isn't one for excessive praise, but he runs his hands through Moryo's messy hair in a gentle gesture. 'Well done for looking after Curvo, too.'

'He was quiet and still and just watched what I did so it was easy', Moryo says, his face glowing for something other than anger for once. It is not such a bad morning after all.

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you liked little Moryo and his brothers' antics, please let me know :)