Category: Tolkien-Universe

Rating: M

Couples: Egalmoth/Rog, Maeglin/Salgant

Warnings: AU, canon-levels of Everything

Chapter: 4

Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate and/or mynameisjessejk, Plot & OC´s © by me

Authors note: Set in the Otter(less) Mayhem Universe of abovementioned mynameisjessejk on AO3. Unofficial sequel to 'The House of the Mole'

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"Ah, well-met." Elrond looked up from his correspondence when hearing a soft screech. A falcon of some kind sat on his windowsill, straps of a message-tube just peeking over his folded wings. Getting up from his seat, he offered his hand to the bird, which carefully transfered itself from the stone railing to his fingers. A well-trained one, then.

The cap of the tube loosened with a soft pop, a scroll peeking out. The moment he had pulled the paper out and put the stopper back, the brown form hopped back to the railing and took to the skies. No answer needed, clearly.

Erestor's seal... Blinking a few times, he broke the wax-seal to open the missive. "Oh..." It was a short message, but it was a sad one. Poor Glorfindel...

"Boys?" He thanked the Valar his sons were actually in residence at the moment because this would have been so much harder if he first had needed to find them in the entirety of Valinor. Elladan squeaked at him from within Fingon's lap - honestly, at this point Tumfalas' residents had given up expecting him anywhere else when Fingon was visiting. Elrohir was draped in Maedhros', one hand firmly scratching his belly.

"You look like you had bad news?" Fëanor's eldest looked up from his seated position, other arm playing with gold-decorated braids.

"I did, actually." The elder Peredhel informed him, sinking through his knees to be able to reach his son with one hand. The other still held the missive. "Word from New Gondolin."

That certainly got the attention of Fingolfin's eldest, considering two of his siblings were currently there and he sat up straight from where he had been reclining against his cousin's side. "What's wrong in Gondolin?"

"Cirith Oron's road collapsed. Two of Gondolin's Lords fell into the river below and are lost. Turgon asks if we can assist them in looking for them... Well, Erestor as stand-in for Turgon asks." He gestured at himself and the two otters as Fingon hissed, reaching for the paper. Elrond obligingly passed it over so he could read.

Elrohir slunk out of his grandfather's lap and bounded over to be able to read it as well. Then he bounced over to the discarded tunic-pile nearby. "We'll help." He announced the moment he had elvish vocal-cords again. "That's not even up for debate."

"I assumed as much." His father answered with a faint smile. "I'll get some horses prepared then."

"I'm coming too." Fingon for what might well the first time in existence, gently pushed Elladan out of his lap and rose to his feet.

"I feel that once they find out, the entire line of Fingolfin will descend on New Gondolin to support Turgon and help." The red-head pointed out, scratching his grumbling grandchild who was slowly making his way over to his own tunic. "I'll take word of this to Tirion then, considering my vacation will be cut short since your father will also leave the city to go north." He grumbled at the black-haired elf beside him.

"Please also inform Celebrian and Ereinion for me." Elrond requested, since both were in Tirion for a visit with Galadriel and were likely to get back while he was still at New Gondolin. He didn't want to have them randomnly find the house abandoned.

"Anyone else?" The sarcasm dripped from the words.

"I do have a bunch of letters that need to be delivered." The elder Peredhel laughed softly as he dodged the swipe of his elder. Chuckled lightly, he got to his feet. "Will your husbands also join, you think?" He adressed his sons, both now elf-shaped and reaching for their other articles of clothing.

"Yes." Both stated after a short while.

"Six horses then. Can you handle the supplies?" Elrond swept from the gardens after they nodded while finishing dressing. "We'll leave in an hour."

"I honestly thought there'd be less drama over here compared to Beleriand and Middle-Earth." Maedhros mused as he followed Fingon to his rooms to help him pack his things. "I wonder if Maglor would also want to join...?" He slowed down briefly. "Should I ask, you think?"