A Breath Before the Storm

Cool shadows and golden light painted alternating stripes across the tiled floor where the thick drapes had been thrown open. One window hung carelessly open. Through it the occasional gust of warm air stirred the papers that lay scattered across the carved table. Dust swirled in illuminated particles where the light caught them, fading back into invisibility as they passed into the shades.

"Do you think Father will allow us back at court soon?" Idly Maitimo traced a dark whorl in the table top.

Makalaure did not look up. Gently he plucked a note on the small harp in his lap, scribbling it down on the sheaf of parchment laid out before him.

"Kano?"

"What?" His quill stopped, hovering above the parchment.

"I asked if you think we'll be allowed to return to court."

"Hmm." Makalaure brushed the feather gently across his lips, eyes turned to slits as he scrutinized the work. "I doubt it."

More notes followed, the foundations of what seemed a very mournful tune. Bored, Maitimo tapped two of his fingers on the table. A trickle of sweat ran down the back of his neck. Despite the lightness of his tunic the heat permeated everything. Would that they could take a trip to the sea, perhaps swim in the harbor at Aqualondë as they had as children.

"Please stop that."

Maitimo sighed and lay his hand flat on the table, truncating the rhythm he had been building. Instead he turned his eyes to the high windows.

Outside the glass panes birds were chirping. From the library one could see almost all the western gardens spread out. Lying on the very edge of Tirion the far wall of their compound garden pressed up against a forest of leafy oaks and birches. Between the house and that a handful of paths wounds their way around flowering hedges and the shadows of willow bows. From around the side of the house came the ringing of hammers as in the workshops the smiths plied metals to their will.

"I can't imagine it will be much longer. Already it has been near a season, and you said yourself that their debates usually blow over quickly."

"Maitimo." He turned to see Makalaure glaring up at him. "If you continue to ask me pointless questions you will outweigh your use as a second pair of ears and I shall have to ask you to leave." He sniffed looking back at what he had written. "I cannot concentrate with you yammering on."

Maitimo threw up his hand but held his tongue. Slouching back into his chair he listened as Makalaure began again with the first notes of the piece. It was a gentle thing, with simple tones though masterfully combined. Maitimo could not help but marvel at the way the melody rose and fell. All was under arched with a degree of overwhelming sadness.

After a few moments the notes became muddled and the melody was lost.

"Arg! I can't get it right." Makalaure set his harp upon the table.

"It is beautiful, where did you think of that."

"I'm not sure." His brother shook his head, dark curls bouncing. "It just came to me. But I cannot seem to finish it. Beyond these few verses I am lost."

"Have you asked Illindë what she thinks? She knows more about music than I do."

"Of course but she is just as baffled as I, nothing quite seems to fit."

"Oh." There was little help Maitimo could offer to his brother in this case. He had never professed to know much about the composure of music. A few times in his youth he had tried his hand at verse, but that had been many years ago. They had read like bad love poetry anyways.

"I don't know why this—"

Whatever Makalaure didn't know was lost as a high pitched scream splintered through the air, accompanied by a rather loud spash.

They sprang to their feet, shoulders colliding painfully as they craned their necks out the window. Loud barking echoed through the shrubbery.

"Tyelko must have left Huan for the afternoon."

"But I thought he was out hunting with Irissë?" Tyelko never left Huan behind on the hunt.

Makalaure shrugged. "I don't know."

Their suspicion was confirmed as a moment later Curvo's voice rang out over the gardens. "Back you beast! Shoo!"

Curvo appeared, accompanied by a rather bedraggled looking nis. Every inch of her—from silver head to the hem of her gown—dripped, leaving a trail of glistening water behind her as she walked. Huan bounded around them, tail wagging in excitement.

"Having a nice walk Curvo?" Maitimo could not resist. Curvo glanced up the window, eyes set in a glare that might have melted the stone from its settings.

He opened he mouth, but the nis plucked at his sleeve and said something they could not catch. Gently he steered her in the direction of the house and out of view, casting a final glance at them over his shoulder.

Settling back into his chair Maitimo leafed through one of the piles of paper in front of him. "Is Curvo courting her?"

"How should I know? Curvo keeps his secrets more guarded than all the rest of us combined." Makalaure cast a final baleful glance at his notes. "I was not even aware he felt that way about nissë."

"Well she did look a tad like cousin Finderato, perhaps that's wherein his interest lies."

"Don't tell me I have two siblings sneaking about with their cousin, three if you think Tyelko and Irissë are up to more than just hunting." Makalaure's smile faded as he caught the look on Maitimo's face. "That is why you want father to allow us back at court isn't it? To see Findekano?"

Maitimo hesitated then nodded.

"Well at least he visits, even mother was remarking the other day how he is constantly coming and going."

"That's just it, if he must continue to frequent our house the others will grow suspicious." Maitimo plucked a stray hair off the front of his tunic, where it shone like a thread of fire. "I wish Indis and our uncles would just apologize to father, so that we can return to court in good conscious."

Makalaure stretched, long arms outstretched. His hair tumbled down the back of his own chair. "Yes but they still maintain that they are blameless and that it was father who first aggrieved lady Indis."

"She pronounced grandmother þerinde's name wrong, certainly she could apologize for that." Maitimo yawned, the warm air and sunshine tugged on his eyelids, lulling him into a state of lethargy. "Though I suppose court doesn't matter all that much to father, all his smiths and workshops are here. The Dark one even comes weekly to tell news of the court and give his council." The Vala had been about their house much as the months had passed, though Feanaro's sons saw him rarely. Even now Maitimo would not doubt the two were holding council of their own in Feanaro's private study.

"I do not profess to trust him, yet any ally against the grasping of my half-brothers may prove useful indeed." He had told them when first the Vala came to call at their house.

Makalaure yawned as well, catching it off of Maitimo. "Then perhaps you ought to ask Findekano to speak with his father, tell him to apologize."

Perhaps, perhaps.

They mused over it in silence until there came the light patter of footsteps in the hallway and the door creaked open. Curvo's eyes glittered, standing just in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"Hello brother," Makalaure stood, "where is your friend?"

He let out a noise, a little huff somewhere between exasperation and anger. "She wished to return home."

"The gardens did not suit her I suppose?" Maitimo asked, keeping his voice as light and conversational as he dared.

"Hardly."Curvo's mouth twisted. "Our cousin is downstairs waiting for you Maitimo. You'd better escort him to leave before father catches him skulking about. The Nolofinweans aren't welcome here." With a rustle he turned, back down the hallway he'd come from.

"It's as if he blames us that his friend fell in the fountain."

"Well he can hardly blame a dog can he." Makalaure had picked his harp up once more. "You had better go though, Curvo might be testy but he's probably right about father."

Maitimo leapt from the chair, smoothing out the front of his tunic so that his father's emblem, stitched upon the front, stood out proudly. "That and I'd rather not listen to you gripe about your song for the next three hours."

"It won't be griping if it turns out to be a masterpiece!" Makalaure shouted after him, but already his brother had bounded from the room.

.0.

"Ai! You demons! Leave me alone!"

Maitimo and Findekano rounded a hedge. Above them the sky was a starling blue, cloudless and serene.

"Nelyo!" Two voices rang up and two blurs of copper and green collided with Maitimo. With a great whoosh the air left his lungs and he stepped back, feet catching on an uneven cobblestone. The sensation of falling was almost graceful, but only for a second before his back collided painfully with the ground.

Two pairs of hazel eyes blinked down at him. The twins were both dressed in their hunting clothes, with bows at their backs and knives at their belts. Their fastenings gleamed silver in the light. Not yet to their majorities, their faces had yet to lose the childish cast of adolescence and they stared with unbridled awe and delight. Copper hair was braided down their backs in great rivers of fire.

Somewhere above Findekano laughed.

"Telu, Pityo, let me up." They extended their hands and helped to heave their elder from the ground. Finno was grinning as Maitimo dusted the grass from his clothes.

In the shadows of a great elm Carnistir scowled, his arms crossed. His dark hair was disheveled and a deep flush spread across his cheeks.

"Moryo, how goes it?" Findekano hailed.

Carnistir scowl deepened and he harrumphed. By his feet a loom was set, now completely overturned. The threads spread out across the ground in a dazzling array of color. "It was going fine, at least until these little beasts decided to attack me."

"Now brother we are hardly little." Telufinwe offered.

"Indeed, we're already as tall as Curvo, and given a year I'm sure we'll surpass Makalaure too." Pityafinwe added, brushing a stray hand of hair from his face.

"Mores the pity too." Carnistir's brows drew together and he knelt to gather his thread back into a basket.

"If you must blame anyone, blame Tyelko. He's the one who left us behind, even after he promised to take us on his next hunting trip."

Maitimo and Findekano watched bemusedly as the twins knelt to help Carnistir gather up his things but were swatted away. Moryo's pride and prickly nature would allow for no assistance. Instead he hunched his shoulders and tumbled his things into a large heap.

"Where is Tyelko?" Finno looked curiously to the twins.

Telufinwe waved a dismissive hand. "Who knows! Probably off hunting somewhere. He was to take us with him, but he told us he would hunt with Cousin Irissë alone today and we weren't allowed." He wrinkled his nose.

Maitimo frowned, "He even left Huan here. I hope they don't get into trouble."

"Did he?" Finno shrugged, gold light glinting on his braids, "Well I wouldn't worry. Irissë at least can take care of herself."

Maitmo laughed, "True enough."

Ambarussa glanced at each other. Carnistir straightened up, and regarded them all. His expression darkened as he beheld Findekano—as if seeing him for the first time—and he rounded on Maitimo.

"What are you doing bringing him here Nelyo?"

Maitimo stared, taken aback by his brother's sudden animosity. "Finno has every right to be here if he so chooses brother."

"Father would not like it, Nolofinwions are not welcome here."

Pityafinwe threw up his hands, "Ah! Get the stick out of your hakka! You do plenty of things father would not approve of!" Maitimo glanced at Findekano, whose lips twisted up in the slightest grin. His blue eyes flashed.

"Oh yes!" Telufinwe joined in, his words rushing out almost faster than comprehension allowed, "Remember the time Atar said we were not to swim in the pond but you did it anyways? And then you got bit by a fish and had to ask Amil to—"

"Enough!" Carnistir's ears went scarlet and he squared his shoulders. The silver star embroidered upon the front of his black doublet reflected rays of Laurelin in blinding conflagrations of light. His hands balled into fists.

Both the twins tensed, their eyes going wide. Of all seven, Carnistir was the quickest to anger, and the quickest also to throw punches.

"Nelyo? Finno? Moryo?" A nis' voice floated round the hedge wall. A second later Ilindë rounded the bend. A small lute was tucked under her arm and her dark hair lay braided flat against her skull. "Ambarussa."

They inclined their heads to her. As the only one of seven brothers to have yet married, Makalaure's wife was always treated with the highest regard within their family. Yet they hardly saw her, for she spend most her time away from the politics of the court and the constant flurry of industry that was their home. Instead she preferred to while away her hours with the theatre and Makalaure would've joined her there if their father had allowed it. She paused regarding them with her soft grey gaze.

"Dearest sister." Maitimo knelt to press his lips to her hand, brushing away the trailing gossamer of her gown.

"Brother." A faint smile touched her lips and she tossed her head. Ilindë always evoked an air of calm in their family of mostly ner, where their mother was so often enthralled in their work. She inclined her head to Findekano, "Finno, it is good to see you again."

Even Carnistir seemed to calm under her gaze.

"I had hoped to find Kano among you…" She continued, "Would you know where he is?"

Maitimo straightened, pressing the wrinkles from his tunic. "He was in the study last I saw him."

She glanced up at the window, forehead crinkling in concentration. "He has not solved the dilemma of his lasted piece then?"

"No indeed."

"Then I shall see if he requires my assistance."

The twins bounded forward, desperate to be free of Carnistir's dark gaze. "If you would like we could escort you."

The three of them wound off through the tree line paths, threading their way in the direction of the house and its cool shadows. Maitimo and Findekano watched them go. Carnistir watched too then gathered his things and slipped off without a backwards glance.

When he was gone Findekano linked his hand with that of Maitimo. Despite the heat of the day Finno's skin was cool. His dark braided fell about the both of them, stirred slightly by a faint breeze. Maitimo's own hair danced upon the wind, flowing as it if were liquid copper. Findekano's blue eyes looked up questioning, two perfect mirrors of the sky.

"It's not true what Moryo said is it? That your father would not have me here?"

Maitimo looked to the direction his brother had gone. "Moryo has always been quick to anger and quick to assume. It is your father, not you that ours has a quarrel with."

Finno signed and lay his head against Maitimo's shoulder. "Sometimes I think your father is not so reasonable as that. I have said often that you inherited your patience and skill diplomacy from your mother." He felt Maitimo tense and quickly amended, "But perhaps you are right. I would hope this dispute can be looked past."

"So do I. Besides," he laughed, "you try having six younger siblings and see if you don't end up patient."

Far above Makalaure's face appeared in the paned window, a pale oval in the darkness of the room beyond.

"We should go."

Findekano stepped back, breaking their embrace. "What do you mean?"

"We're standing like fools her for all to see." Maitimo gestured to the window where Makalaure's face disappeared once more. "We cannot afford to be so bold."

"Ah let them see! You really care if the world knows?" Finno cried, but sobered at the look on his cousin's face. "Fine, fine. Where do you suggest?"

Maitimo smirked slightly, and Finno's face light up. The dimples on his cheeks grew even as his smile did. "Somewhere no one will find us."

.0.

Maitimo collapsed atop his bed. He buried his face in the sheets and inhaled Findekano's familiar scent. One golden ribbon lay curled in his hand.

They had walked in the gardens, and talked and talked for hours, until the last of Laurelin had faded into Telperian's silver. If he shut his eyes he could almost feel the soft touch of Finno's lips against his skin. Findekano had snuck away even as Feanaro emerged from his forge, creeping off like a bandit in the night. It was something they both despised.

Ai Finno, let our father's stop fighting and we can go back to how it was.

He let his eyes drift shut, listening to the night sounds of the house. The familiar clang of their father's hammer upon the anvil chimed through the night air, familiar as a heartbeat. Feanaro never slept. Perhaps tonight Curvo would be with him as well, hammering their will into the metal.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Heavy, from the tread Maitimo guessed it was Carnistir. They paused by the crack of the door and he lay still until they had moved on.

He sighed and rolled over, staring up at the dark panels of the ceiling.

Outside a dove cooed. To him it seemed the world was taking a deep breath. Like the calm before the storm. Even the breeze had ceased, his father's hammer falls falling into silence. Maitimo closed his eyes, but sleep did not find him.

Happy 4th of July to readers within the USA! For everyone else happy saturday! Hope everyone enjoys chapter 2 wherein we get to see some more family dynamics and more Russingon. As always any constructive criticism is appreciated.
Dealing with all these names and nicknames is making me paranoid!