Father's Day Celebration
What is with these elflings? They loved to crawl all over him, tiny fists grabbing and poking him everywhere, and punching his face and various body parts for fun. Or just Feanorian elflings, with a splice of their forefather's infamous burning flame inside them, unconsciously target mark him as their favorite punching bag to vent their collective family grudge against him. How the Mighty has fallen low.
"…if you dare to harm a single hair on their precious heads, I will…" Caranthir roared in his face, his fierce burning eyes tried to burn a hole through him. The red-faced Feanorion was mindful of the five screaming elflings in his lap, and didn't try to shake him to emphasize his point, no matter how much he wanted to.
"Yes, Yes, you will thrash me until I am a bloody pulp, and toss me to Huan as chew toy for eternity" he recited Caranthir's threat for him, he has heard these countless times, and tried very hard not to roll his eyes.
Caranthir was not impressed. He arched his eyebrow, and ready to shout out more threats, but then he was distracted by a round of loud raucous laughter from the main party hall.
"Ohhh…sounds like the Spirit of Fire celebrated too much on this auspicious Father's Day, and drunk on his feet already. You better run along to help him before he torches the mansion down for fun."
" I am sure Nelyo and Kano have the situation under control. Oh Eru's ball is that Tyelko disrobing himself? We don't need him and Aredhel making baby #3 at the party hall, this is so disgusting. Atto, please stop cheering them on!" horrified, Caranthir dashed to the party, wailing his indignation loudly, intending to stop a very inebriated Celegorm the Fair from doing the deed with his wife in front of their relatives in various drunken states. A very smashed Feanor hollered his approval at his third son's antic.
Hey there's nothing like celebrating Father's Day by begetting another elfling.
Since the Feanorions gotten out of the Hall, and literally forced to stop their quest of Silmarils, they directed their boundless energy and virility to breeding. Except for the sons who chose alternative lifestyle, the remaining sons are trying to outdo their Atto in the record of begetting the most children. The Feanorions are breeding like rabbits! The result is a huge brood of obnoxious, unruly, loud mouth, out of control elflings.
Like the 5 screeching elflings bouncing in his lap, and punching his gut with their fists, giggling madly. These are not elflings, these are fiends, they are worse than orclings. The 2 other older elfings were rolling on the floor nearby punching each other's face out. At long as they don't come kick him, and are not bleeding to death, he doesn't care what they do.
Someone behind him was sighing loudly. He knew who that elf is. The other black sheep in the family assigned to babysitting duty while the others partied. The tradition of celebrating Father's Day is a mortal tradition brought to Valinor by elves who finally migrated to the Blessed Realm after staying on Middle Earth for ages and blending in with the mortals. The Noldor, who finds any excuse to party hard, adopts this custom, and starts to throw lavish parties to up one each other to celebrate Father's Day.
Looking wretched, Maeglin's neat braids were being pulled and used like a ladder by his two silver blonde half brothers to climb up to his shoulder. He's telling them to stop being obnoxious to no avail. These are Feanorian elflings. They won't stop doing what they set their minds to do even if you threaten them with a Doom.
Now Carnion, the red haired ill-tempered son of Amrod stopped his assault on him, began to shove his brothers and cousins around. After being hit in the face, Mirion, Caranthir's son started wailing. The shrill noise could have a Balrog wet his pants in his nap.
He had no choice except to grab and hold Mirion to rock him in a soothing fashion to stop the waterworks, except the elfling would not stay still, and squirming around to wiggle out of his arms. The other fours elfings were making fun of Mirion, sneering and laughing derisively at what a big crybaby he is.
He has no idea how to deal with elflings, and has no experience with them. His recollection of elflings been they were cowering in the dark, muted, completely scared and witless.
Maybe he could sing to put them in a sleep fog to save him from the misery of misbehaving elflings. He did sing to create the rocks and minerals at the beginning of time, he still knows Songs of Power, so to sing elflings to sleep is a piece of cake, even though it is an overkill.
At the other corner, Huan stopped munching on his roast beef treats, and eyed him suspiciously.
No, he better not do anything, he doesn't want to be the Hound of Valinor's chew toy.
Maeglin crept closer with his 2 baby half brothers still pulling and chewing his braids, and whined, "Mairon, eh Mairon, I really really need to go use the bathroom, can you watch my two brothers for me? Please?"
"Are you trying to foist them on me, and sneak off? I am not falling for that. I wasn't born yesterday."
A silvery laughter broke the conversation. "Go take a bathroom break if you need to Maeglin, I will watch your brothers for you." The elf with bright silver eyes smiled at Maeglin, and took the two dangling Celegormions off him. Maeglin, thanking the elf profusely, stretched his aching body, and darted out of the baby room like a Balrog was chasing him. Mairon shook his head at his husband, " Tyelpe, you know he's not coming back. There is no way he's jumping back to this hellish pit of deranged elflings" his husband just smiled his self-effacing smile, and shoved him a huge plate of food.
"I got tired of watching uncle Fingon challenging uncle Caranthir, uncle Celegorm, and Grandfather to a drinking contest for the umpteenth times, and Atto making out with uncle Finrod (please their passions will give me nightmares), and uncle Amrod and Amras stripped down to their skivvies and drunk dancing on table tops, and thought I could come to help you watch my cousins."
Despite the elfings gnawing at his calves and ankles, Mairon edged closer to his husband to brush shoulder with him. He's very thankful to be able to patch things up with Tyelpe after being chained in the solitary room for ages in the Hall, and even though babysitting duty is one of the most unpleasant tasks he's relegated to in his path to acceptance by the Feanorians, he will gladly bear it to be with his bounded mate.
After all, this is the most interesting family he could belong to, these elflings, with proper training and their innate Feanorian ingenuity, he could have an army of smithing minions, he mused.
A loud noise of crystal goblets crashing to the floor, Feanor's masterful voice bellowed, "Who's with me to go outside and burn some effigies?" The rowdy elves in the party hall cheered thunderous. An over enthused Fingon slapped his father-in-law/uncle's shoulder to egg him on. Maglor just palmed his face, looking resigned. Maedhros patted his shoulder in sympathy.
Mairon smirked. These Feanorians definitely know how to party in style. He sent Eru a simple Happy Father's Day note via his mind, and thanking him for a second chance.