Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the Professor.
A year had passed since the Siege of Angband and so a short-lived peace was enjoyed.
In his room, Aegnor was writing poetry. Only poetry was able to rescue him from the terrible memories that assailed him. Memories of the Kinslaying. How he'd stood, powerless, crying on his knees and begging them all to stop. Memories of his childhood. Of his drunken father's regular beatings with a rusty wooden spoon. Of how he was unloved by his parents. Of how he was a waste of a son to have, since, after all, only Artanis was going to survive in the end.
Aegnor wiped the silent tears that fell from his orange eyes. Eyes like the fire in his name.
He sighed.
No use delaying it. He would eventually have to join his brother Finrod and his cousins Fingon and Maedhros. Thank Eru that Angrod and Maglor were both away hunting. He didn't think he'd be able to endure them all. Why did they have to be such... meanies?
"Ah!" Finrod exclaimed. "I see you've finally decided to join us, brother."
"I was beginning to think," Maedhros said with a cruel laugh, "that you had been taken by Morgoth!"
"Not for lack of wishing!" Fingon laughed while slapping his knee.
Aegnor waited for the laughter to die, but it seemed to go on forever. He sat.
"Has dinner not yet been served?" He asked his brother.
"Indeed it has, little brother," Finrod said with a mighty burp.
"Is there any of it left?" He asked them.
"Wait!" Fingon held up his hand. "I think I can get you some," he said before beginning to heave, bringing semi digested food to his mouth.
Finrod and Maedhros laughed, as did Fingon, though he chewed as he did so.
Aegnor got up. He sighed and lowered his eyes. He would not cry. Not in front of them. He would not show them weakness.
"Oi! Cousin! Why don't you put that pretty mouth of yours to work on something useful," Fingon paused lecherously, "and sing us a song?"
Such a request was hardly surprising, since Aegnor played 42 musical instruments and possessed a voice so wondrous that it surpassed in beauty that of Maglor, Daeron and Luthien combined.
He went to retrieve his accordion while Finrod, resting his hands on his prominent stomach, told their cousins lewd jokes.
And then he started to sing. And while he did so he was lost in the magic of the music, the honeyed words wrapped in his Barry White-like voice. He finished the song. And then another. And then...
"You can stop now," Finrod told him almost proudly, while smacking him on his round rock-tight little arse. "You've entertained us enough."
"Time to talk of important things, like war!" Maedhros added.
"Not daft girly things like music and reading and whatever it is you do," Fingon nodded.
It took all Aegnor had, to be able to escape the room before bursting into tears.
He ran out of Nargothrond seeking refuge in the open plains, where he landed on his knees and wept enough to challenge Nienna herself.
He undid his Vanya golden hair, caught with a leather band. Shaking his hair free, he was a vision to behold. It was as if a shooting star had taken the form of an elf, so bright and golden was he. Silent sobs racked his muscular body and an aura of enchantment seemed to surround him.
Suddenly a sound drove him to take his manly hands from his face. What on Arda was that! It was like someone was skinning a castrated pig alive. Heroic as he was, Aegnor stood up effortlessly, his powerful thighs giving him the agility of an Egyptian gazelle.
With his hands on his belt, where he kept his razor-sharp shurikens, he bravely went towards the source of the sound.
What he saw was not what he'd expected a... deformed creature squealed and shrieked facing a snake. Without a second thought, Aegnor sprung forth. He gazed into the eyes of the slippery animal that found itself unable to resist the tenderness it found in his. Aegnor had a way with all creatures. His uncle, Fëanor, had begrudged the fact that he was not present when he challenged Morgoth, for if he had been there, he would have soothed the balrogs into submission with his kind eyes and gentle voice.
Pacified, the snake slithered away. It had already distanced itself for a half a meter when it was crushed by a rock.
"There!" The now un-squealing creature said.
Aegnor, horrified with the death of his new reptilian friend, turned to look at the creature. It was in fact a... maiden? Surely no maiden could look so vilely disgusting!
"Good lady," he said. "You needn't have killed that gentle creature."
She looked at him in awe. Minutes passed. He started getting nervous. Why wouldn't she speak? What was...? Oh, my grossness! Was that a wart! In all his life - and for an immortal that's a long time - he'd never seen an uglier creature. Well, there had been that one warg, but it was putrid for it had been dead for two weeks and it had something growing from its head.
He cleared his throat and decided to speak, seeing as the lady wouldn't. "Is... is there something in my teeth?"
"Nay, my lord!" The maiden shook her head violently. "Your teeth are like pearls! Only brighter and smoother. And not round."
Not used to compliments, Aegnor felt his heart go out for the maiden. She was a kind spirit. It was not her fault that she looked like an ill-done abortion.
"Your words are too kind, fai..." he paused, searching for words. "Kind lady." He concluded lamely. But this was not his fault for Aegnor was the cleverest of the House of Finwë and maybe even of all elves, but hard it is to prove so, without an official contest.
Offering a smile worthy of a toothpaste commercial, Aegnor bowed graciously. "I am Aegnor, son of Finarfin of the House of Finwë. May I have the grace of knowing your name, my lady?"
She squinted at him, beaming and dropped into a curtsy. "I am Andreth, daughter of Boron of the house of Bëor."
Aegnor, pure of heart as he was, could not resist talking with her. And so they spoke at length of all subjects. Especially of poetry and music. The lady was versed in lore, a fact in which Aegnor took much delight. The day came to an end and they'd barely noticed it. They agreed to meet again, eager for a new talk. And so they kept doing every day for a month, after which time Aegnor found himself to be in love with Andreth, despite her hideous looks, for Aegnor being a deep elf could look past appearances into a person's heart and he found the lady Andreth's sweet spirit to soothe his battered soul.
And it was with the happy contentment of an elf in love that Finrod and their cousins Fingon and Maedhros, having arrived from a session of mud wrestling, found him one morning, while he counted the hours until his meeting with his beloved.
"Well, well, well!" Maedhros elbowed Finrod to catch his attention. "Look who's looking all happy as a pig in crap!"
Fingon put his hands on his hips. "Indeed it is true, good cousin, it seems our little Aegnor is displaying the symptoms of an elf in love."
"Is it true, brother?" Finrod enquired, dripping mud onto the finely embroidered carpet.
Aegnor couldn't have concealed his grin even if he'd wanted to. "Yes, brother. It is. I have found the maiden of my life."
Finrod let out a cry of joy. "About time! This one here," he turned to his cousins and pointed at Aegnor, "is still a virgin!"
Fingon was wide-eyed. "No! You jest, cousin!" He said as they sat around a meal. Maedhros was laughing too much to speak.
"It is true," Finrod nodded. "I myself find it hard to believe, for my brother is so well endowed he could easily have anal sex with himself."
"As all of the House of Finwë," muttered Fingon while stretching a mud-covered hand to an oil-dripping strip of bacon.
"So tell us, cousin, who is this maiden who has stolen your heart?" Maedhros asked, grabbing a sardine.
"Andreth, of the House of Bëor," Aegnor answered.
Fingon mused aloud, "Bëor? Who on Arda is Bëor?" And Maedhros looked equally confused. Finrod, the only who had recognised the name, had been busy nibbling on a chicken's head and promptly choked, getting the beak lodged in his throat. Maedhros helped his cousin giving him a mighty punch in the back with his stump.
When he'd finally regained his breath, Finrod spoke. "But, brother, Bëor is a man!"
Aegnor, free spirit that he was, saw no harm in this. "So?"
"So, wouldn't you rather have a wife who would, you know..." Finrod left the sentence hanging.
Maedhros was not so kind. "Outlive a regular house pet."
Aegnor felt his heart aflame. "I can not believe that those of my own kin are prejudiced!" He looked around; waiting for a beat so his next words would have more weight. "Racism is wrong."
Finrod, men friend that he was, quieted at these words. And Maedhros and Fingon were the last on Arda entitled to criticize other's sexual choices, so they kept their silence.
Aegnor's words rang true and wise as all he said.
"Well, cousin," Fingon said, reaching for a chicken wing, "I hope your lady is wise and fair to behold."
Aegnor eyes sparkled even more than they usually did, looking like orange diamonds on fire in a room filled with liquid oxygen. "In my eyes she's the most beautiful of Eru's Children, for she has my heart."
The other three rolled their eyes, although Fingon and Maedhros exchanged a tender glance.
The four spoke some more, but when the conversation turned to the subject of hunting, Aegnor bid goodnight, for this was a subject and a practice that he abhorred, as he was not capable of harming any of Eru's creatures. He had even gone as far as barely eating, surviving only on water and lembas and his elven resilience, such was his horror of being responsible for the death of any living being.
Aegnor entered his quarters and, undressing to his waist, went straight to the window. There he sighed his beloved's name, a content smile on his handsome face, making cute dimples appear in his cheeks, which were of such perfection they looked as if they had been carved by the Valar themselves. His beautiful elven skin shone in the moonlight. Indeed, his skin was so fair you could see almost all of his circulatory system. Whispering a ditty dedicated to his lady, he made his way to bed and slept the sleep of the just.
The following morning, Finrod, Fingon and Maedhros were sparring. The air was filled with the sounds of grunting and metal, as the swords connected. Aegnor did not spar. It would hardly be fair since he was an expert in wielding a sword, a bow and most other weapons. He was even said to know kung fu, though his gentle nature left that rumour unproved.
"Andreth!" Aegnor jumped to his feet, his golden hair shimmering like a rain of coins.
Andreth ran to his outstretched arms and they embraced lovingly.
Finrod, Maedhros and Fingon stared wide mouthed.
Aegnor took Andreth by the hand to introduce her to his brother and cousins.
"Andreth, this is my brother, Finrod and these are my cousins, Fingon, the brave and Maedhros, the tall. Cousins, brother, this is Andreth, wise-heart. The woman I love."
The three nodded in horror and Fingon had the presence of mind to murmur something about having to go to the stables and off they went, leaving Aegnor to spend another joyous day with the lady of his heart.
Later, when he returned for dinner, he found three very grave faces at the table.
"Brother! Cousins! Such long faces. It looks like a funeral died in here!" he jested, for Aegnor was much given to merry making and was renowned for his wit.
Finrod spoke first. "Brother... Aegnor. Do you not find anything amiss with your lady?"
"Like what?" Aegnor asked, for such was his purity that Andreth was nothing short of lovely to him.
"Like the fact that she is as ugly as my left testicle!" Fingon said, not able to control himself.
Aegnor stood so quickly his chair fell back. "Cousins, brother, you are all dear to my heart, and for that- and only for that- I will forget those words. But hear me, if any of you ever say an unkind word about my beloved again we are no longer kin." This he said and his face was grave and full of authority, though still a pleasure to behold.
There was silence for the space of several minutes. And then Maedhros spoke.
"But, cousin... she's almost as ugly as my soul."
The House of Bëor made no objection to the staying of Aegnor. To give shelter to such a wise, fair and just elven lord was an honour.
With them he stayed for long winters, living with Andreth as husband and wife are wont to do. Many a times people would find Aegnor's sensuous mouth, red and juicy as a forbidden fruit touching that of Andreth's which was thin lipped with a cleft-pallet. Such was his love for her.
And they were frequently seen walking hand in hand, her thin frame and his stronger one. Indeed, Aegnor was so broad shouldered and so thin of waist and hips that, from afar, he looked like a triangle. And he was beautiful to behold.
Yet, no children blessed this union, and this brought much unhappiness to the couple as well as to those who knew them, for Aegnor's beauty was so great it was sure to outbalance Andreth's looks, assuring them beautiful children.
But fate would have it that Aegnor received a summon from his kin, to join the upcoming battle. But the love of Andreth was all he cared about in Arda, so he disregarded it. One day, while attending a feast in honour of a guest, a man had looked at Andreth for the whole occasion, surely intrigued on what such hag could possess to enchant such fair a lord.
Aegnor, in his love, took the man's staring at his wife as lustful. Deciding to tell him off but being a strict adept of the saying 'Make Love Not War' he said, "Stop looking at my wife or I'll kiss you with tongue!"
Such comment offended the man and enraged Andreth, who, being wise in Aegnor's eyes, could not abide with chauvinistic behaviour.
So Aegnor made his way to bed alone, for the first time since he had joined the House of Bëor.
The next morning Aegnor was awoken with his bedroom door slamming. He rose from bed and it was as if he carried the splendour of a thousand suns. On the floor, crying was Andreth.
Enamoured as he was, he rushed to his beloved's side.
"Andreth, my love, tell me what hails you and I'll change it if it's in my power." He whispered urgently while holding her to his well-developed chest.
"Aegnor, my husband..." Andreth sobbed. "I have wronged you."
"Nothing you could do could have wronged me, my love," he whispered.
"I... I was so upset at your jealous behaviour last night, that I... I've betrayed you, husband."
Aegnor felt as if a ball of ice had chattered inside his perfect stomach lining. He let go of her.
"Whom with?" He asked with barely contained rage.
Andreth sobbed even harder. "No one... no one wanted me," she looked him straight in his beauteous eyes, "I've betrayed you with two ponies, Aegnor."
This was too much, even for such a patient and kind spirit as Aegnor. He ran out of the door crying.
The next morning he was gone and, has story tells, he died bravely in the Dagor Bragollach.
But what story does not tell is that Andreth had conceived and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. After spending the first years nervously searching for equine signs on the child and trembling whenever he was about to speak lest he'd whine like a horse, Andreth finally convinced herself that the boy was Aegnor's.
And so it is that the descendants of Aegnor still roam Arda, immortal though not knowing so. A living testimony of their ancestor's perfection now gone.
THE END
