Author's note: I just want a AU where Maedhros and Maglor have to face sharing home with three sets of twins, ok?

~X~X~X~X~X~X

In general there was nothing big about Amrod and Amras sharing a room or even a bed at times. It was a lifelong habit from their earliest moments of life in Vainor, being born so early that Nerdanel and Fëanor had been unsure if their youngest sons would surprise for the first weeks after birth. They had shared a small basket as their first cradle, then a proper cradle inherited from their older brothers before moving on to a child bed. Only when entering the stage between late childhood and maturing into adulthood, had they finally agreed on having separate beds standing beside each other.

"Uncles! Uncles Ambarussa!"

Amrod was the first one to awake, getting a tiny little body on top of himself.

"Ow!"

Moments later, a barely held-back curse from Amras when he was woken up in similar manner. At first, it was too dark to see, then two tiny little children revealed themselves.

"Elrond, you and Elros should still be asleep at this hour…"

"But it is uncle Maedhros' begetting day today, we heard ada Maglor mention it yesterday! And we want to surprise him!" the youngest twin spoke in a loud whisper of excitement. His older brother, seated on Amras' chest, nodded in agreement.

"And I guess that your own twin uncles have gotten involved in this plan, since they were the ones to lay you to bed yesterday? Amras wondered, referring to that almost no one from Doriath actually knew that Maedhros had managed to save Elured and Elurin from dying back during the Second Kinslaying.

"Yes! They are already lightening the fire in the oven so we can bake a cake! You can not have a begetting day without a cake!" Elros informed with all the firm belief of a eight-year-old.

It never stopped to be amusing for the Ambarussa, a full set of three different twin teams living in Amon Ereb. All six of them were different in personality, yes, but it was just too fun to see Maedhros and Maglor sometimes slip on the names and in frustration curse the fact that all the four younger twins had named starting on El.

"It was easier with the nicknames coming from Quenya father-names that our Atar gave the Ambarussa!" as Maedhros sometimes could protest whatever there was such confusion. Maglor tended to be in agreement over that, promising Elrond and Elros that they would be given proper Quenya father-names from him eventually as Eärendil apparently had neglected his duty to give a father-name to his two sons. Neither Elured or Elurin had any clear memories if Dior had given them a father-name in Sindarin since they had been just six years old at losing him to death, and given his own rather poorly-chosen name, Maedhros would not blame Dior for not wanting to. Truly, which set of parents named their son "Successor" of all names?!

"If you two moves down to the floor so we can raise from bed and dress, we can help fixing a cake for our brother," promised Amrod, which made the boys obey the request.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Down in the large kitchen of Amon Ereb, Elurin was stoking the fire while Elured was starting on the cake batter.

"Sounds like our nephews have gotten the Ambarussa to wake up, I can hear them trying to sneak around the stairs."

"Then I will give them the task of grease the baking tin with butter, that should be fun for them." smiled Elured while tossing the egg shells into the bowl that would be emptied on the compost heap later, his silver hair being the only thing revealing his lineage from Thingol while Elurin had gotten the light brown hair from their mother Nimloth, marking them as a surprise set of fraternal twins among the Elves. At the age of forty years, they were now four years older than what their own father ever had gotten to be, unthinkable as it seemed.

True, Dior had been a bit too naive in believing that the Sons of Fëanor would not attack the Kingdom he inherited from his grandfather king Thingol in order to get back the Silmaril, but the Fëanorians had honestly been shocked to see that despite already being a father of three children at the time of his death, Dior had barely been more than a boy than a fully grown man. Some of the Elven blood in Luthien's veins had still been there from the moment of his begetting, giving Dior the Fair a uneven inheritage of growing up. A barely grown up youngster, not realizing the dangers of refusing to give back the Silmaril until that they had attack Doriath. And yet his wife Nimloth had tried to defend him from Celegorm, knowing that Dior would never win in a duel against him. It had been her sacrifice, that of her own life while getting cut down, that had given Dior the opening of killing Celegorm as Nimloth had proven to Curufin that she was a true warrior princess trained for battle unlike Luthien.

Their own memories of Doriath was not clear after all those years, but they still remember their parents struggle to try and find a peaceful way to deal with the Fëanorians. And it was most likely for the best that they had not followed their foster family to Sirion, as Elwing would not have remembered them well thirty-five long years after their last meeting as siblings in early childhood. She had only been three years old at the Second Kinslaying after all.

"What a surprise, to see uncle Maglor return with some small boys that revealed themselves to be our own twin nephews!"

Maedhros had taken the role of a father to Elurin and Elured, while Maglor more or less became the father to Elrond and Elros in the same manner.

"But it is fun, to see more twins among the Elves here in Beleriand than what we ever hoped to find in Valinor," commented Amras from the kitchen door, setting his dark red hair in a braid so he could help out. Amrod, who still kept the lighter red hair colour from their childhood arrived after his twin just as Elrond and Elros tried to avoid being spotted by a night guard.

"Shall we set the table and make it extra nice around the high seat where Maedhros have his place?"

"Yes, please."