Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: Egalmoth/Rog, Maeglin/Salgant
Warnings: AU, canon-levels of Everything
Chapter: 18
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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"Just lay down over there." Rog fondly told the younger Lord. After the practical concert of Song to fix their injuries, they had been left in the two-bed bedroom with promises for dinner to be brought to their bedsides after a bit. "The bed is big enough for two easily." He had no doubts about who was the favourite of their son, and certainly did not mind losing his attentions.
"I..." Tinnuion looked torn, eyes unsure as he looked down on Egalmoth. He was sitting on the side of the larger bed in the room, two otters and one seal piled on the rug in front of the unlit hearth-fire, all three already looking asleep. He vaguely suspected that Tuor was breaking his marriage-bed by being a sea-lion, but had no desire to find out whether it was true.
"Tinnu..." The black-haired Lord murmured, patting the blanket with his healthy hand. "You nearly lost your fathers... you have a right to comfort."
"Okay..." The Lord of the House of the Mole gingerly rested down, relaxing when the arm curled around his shoulders.
Soon, the sounds of celebration filtered inside. "I feel this was faster than when Glaur got his ass back here and we had the full contingent of Lords again." Rog mused, leaning back into his pillows with a contented sigh. "It's been... what, three hours since our arrival? It was more like half a day back then."
"They have practice from back then." The other recovering Lord suggested, leaning his head on that of his son. His eyes turned fond when the younger elf burrowed a bit closer at that. "I'm more worried about the inevitable, later celebration that we are meant to attend."
"Oh for..." The smith groaned at that prospect, tipping his head back to look at the sky - or in his current position, the ceiling. "Why...?"
The two others chuckled at that. "You should have expected that when you took the Lordship of your House, my dear." Egalmoth pointed out, grinning fondly when the other Lord glowered at him for that statement. He had had little choice back then, the people that would make the House of The Hammer of Wrath having decided on a vote and near-unanimously chosen him. By now, he really could only lose the job by dying - which was painful - or by abdicating - which was complicated by a lack of an heir or even just mate.
"Why did I let myself be convinced to become a part of this?" The white-haired elf grumbled in annoyance, crossing his arms.
"Mouse's cute." The Lord of the Heavenly Arch evenly stated, patting the head on his shoulder.
"Hey!" Tinnuion shot up a bit, frowning down. Egalmoth laughed uproariously at the look both gave him, until he did it a bit too hard and a stab of pain reminded him of the sore state of his body. Snorting, he muffled himself with his free hand.
Muttering darkly about bullying parents, Tinnuion returned his former position. He did have to admit that the joking had relaxed him quite a bit and soon the far-away sounds of celebration and the nearby heartbeat under his ear lulled him into sleep. It did help that he hadn't properly slept since the Cirith Oron-incident. One of the last things he noted was the soft touch of lips to his forehead.
"Asleep?" Rog whispered, his voice barely reaching the other bed.
"Mhmm..." Egalmoth hummed fondly. "Coruneth did warn us he took it poorly."
Looking over to the sleep-pile on the carpet, the Lord of the Hammer of Wrath slowly and silently scooted over to his bedside, slipping out and carefully making his way over.
Egalmoth managed to scoot himself and Tinnuion away from the edge, making enough room that upon arrival the second father of the King's nephew - no one really counted Eöl among those anymore, these days - could join them without risking falling off during their sleep.
Making sure not to wake him again, they tucked their son between them and got themselves comfortable. Still drained by their ordeal, even if they were mostly healed now, the two quickly followed.
A short while later, the door creaked open. Aredhel peeked in, just to be sure they were awake. Her eyes briefly widened when noticing one empty bed, then her grin did when she noticed the elven pile on the other one. Her head disappeared, before returning along with the rest of her body and a small cart holding some food and drink.
Using all the stealth she had gained from hunting alongside Celegorm and Oromë, she laid out the food on one of the tables, thankful that it was the cold kind that could last a while before turning inedible. Padding over to the bed, her grin softened to a warm and loving smile when noticing her son snuggled into the hold of the two older elves. His head was tucked under Egalmoth's chin, one hand clinging to the arm of Rog thrown over both his bedmates.
In any other context, she might well be filling this under blackmail-material for either of the elder Lords, but just this once, she could let it slide. Her son desperately needed it, after the last week.
