Category: Tolkien-Universe

Rating: M

Couples: Egalmoth/Rog, Maeglin/Salgant

Warnings: AU, canon-levels of Everything

Chapter: 20

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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In the end, Rog only threw two tarts, one orange, the other some mix that held strawberries - he saw a chunk - before relenting. Turgon had bribed for the white expanse of his robe remaining white with the offer of a curtained pavilion seperate from the main bulk of the party. Who knew, perhaps their King would at some point learn that Rog and Social did not go together and probably never would.

Rog had however been correct in his assumption that all the Lords would follow him into his party-exile the moment he could, alongside their spouses and the descendants of Tuor and Idril. Even with the twins otter-shaped, it was a squeeze, though a comfortable one. He was in the middle of his own cluster; Egalmoth leaning on his left, allowing him to keep most of the weight of his leg and Tinnuion on his right. Aredhel in turn was leaning back to side with her son, currently in soft conversation with Elrond and Glaur.

Leaning his head to the side against the one on the shoulder there, he relaxed in the soft hum of conversation. Outside of the pavilion it was louder, but he could pretend that did not concern him.

"Dad...?" Tinnuion's voice was so soft he doubted even Aredhel could hear it. Looking down, two sets of brown eyes met and though he could not see the black-haired head under his own move, the smith knew that his fellow father was certainly paying attention.

"Yes?" Though Mouse had pretty firmly started to address Egalmoth as 'dad', it was still a rarity that the same applied to him. Reaching out, he wormed his arm between the two Noldor to his right, gently holding the youngster.

"I'm sorry..." Oh Powers, he was not sure he should be happy that apparently they would not need to weaponize the otters, or upset at the frankly horrible timing.

"There's nothing to be sorry for." Egalmoth clearly had decided to roll with the choice of time and venue for this talk. One hand reached across him, claiming the one Mouse had clutching his robes.

"I... I condemned you... to fall..." Even the Lord of the Hammer of Wrath barely heard that one, muffled into his collar as it was. "When I..."

"Son." Rog squeezed briefly, hoping that Aredhel would not notice - or more likely, pretend she did not notice for the sake of her son. "There is nothing to forgive." He kept his voice low and even to keep the rest from noticing that this was more than some familial murmurings. He felt Egalmoth's hand tighten around their son's on his stomach. "We are not Eöl, where every mistake is a crime that needs atonement."

"Especially not when there's no mistake to begin with." The Lord of the Heavenly Arch pointed out, now moving his head to look at the other elf using Rog as a pillow. "It was not your fault, Tinnu, and I will not allow you to take blame."

"Nor will I..." Rog moved his head, switching heads to rest on. It broke his heart a bit when the Lord of the Mole whined softly and buried his face in his chest. Grumbling only briefly, he used the arm between them to gently nudge Aredhel away, allowing him to pull Tinnuion closer and lift him to his other side before any healers could stop him. Egalmoth obligingly pulled away enough to fit him between them, settling again once Mouse was secure.

Before long, there was a chirp down on the floor and then weight on his robes as the larger otter - sea, he vaguely recalled? - tried to climb onto his lap. "When in doubt, otter?" Rog leaned forward, helping the skinchanger up that last bit. Squeaking sweetly, Elladan squirmed into Tinnuion's curled up form. It seemed vaguely mechanical, the opening of the arms and subsequent petting, but at least it was there.

Egalmoth hummed along with the music, stretching to reach his drink and after noting the expression on Rog's face, also his. More squeaking and one grabby paw, but he lifted the goblet out of reach. "I am not sure otters are allowed wine."

"They are not." Elrond looked over Aredhel's form at his fluffy eldest. "Just let me know if I need to remove him." The indignant squeal - how dare his father suggest someone would not want to snuggle him, Rog assumed, but was not sure - at least got a giggle out his own son. Precariously balancing his goblet out of reach of the otter, Gondolin's finest smith buried his free hand in the soft fur. The other remained firmly locked around the two black-haired elves at his side.

"We will." Egalmoth's hand joined the three already hard at work petting, to the clear delight of the otter, who stretched luxuriously across all three of them.