Harvest Dance
(Warnings: Teen, slash) All your fault, Min: You challenged me to give you Arakáno/Amrod. You must have known I'd have to footnote them.
Pulsing torches lined the forest glade. The harvest festival, held near a farming village just outside of Tirion, throbbed with music, laughter and quick, ancient dances brought from across the Sea. Lanterns strung overhead swayed in the light wind making the shadows move. Last days of summer idleness, back to lessons and the forge . . . Pityafinwë thought, wistful for only a moment. Won't do to let my thoughts go in that sort of maudlin direction. I should see him here tonight with any luck. He released a snort of a laugh at himself and his nascent sentimentality.
A warm hand closed around his upper arm. "Ah, Pityo, you are one of the few people I know who can stand all alone at the edge of a crowd and laugh at your own jokes."
"And you, Arakáno, are one of the few who sneak up behind me at festive gatherings for the sole purpose of entertaining yourself at my expense."
"But you are always amusing, sweet cousin. Where is your brother?" Arakáno's warm breathe upon his neck sent a frisson of goosebumps across Pityafinwë's shoulders and down his back.
"Telvo? Oh, he found a hapless local girl--I meant a fortunate local girl--who is eager to keep him company. Want a drink?" Pityafinwë turned to lock onto those motivating pale blue eyes.
"Don't mind if I do. Although, I have been warned. You and Telvo actually make this stuff? Curious to know if this pig slop is as harsh as I have heard." Arakáno tilted his head back and took a long swallow from the flask he had been offered. Pityafinwë watched him, utterly unable to control his grin. He really ought to learn to listen to warnings.
"Eru! Varda's frigid nipples, Pityo! What is this poison?"
"Just a little something to loosen you up." As though either of us ever needed that.
"Hmmm," Arakáno replied, opening his mouth to accept a hot but tender kiss, as his long black hair fell over his cousin's half-bared chest.
"These rustics do know how to celebrate, but still I think we should find a quieter spot," Pityafinwë whispered.
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Characters:
Arakáno
- the Quenya name of Argon, the fourth child of Fingolfin. Not in The
Silmarillion
at all and dies virtually upon the arrival of the Noldor in
Middle-earth. Without much canon to go on, I have felt free to give
him similar looks and personality to his older brother and sister,
Fingon and Aredhel, as presented in my "Maitimo and Findekáno"
story arc.
Amrod
– the youngest of Fëanor's sons; Amrod is the Sindarin
version of Pityo the short form of Pityafinwë. I refer to him
here as Pityafinwë/Pityo, which is appropriate to the time and
place. (His twin Amros, only talked about in this piece, I call
Telvo, short for Telufinwë.)
