Category: Tolkien-Universe

Rating: M

Couples: Egalmoth/Rog, Maeglin/Salgant

Warnings: AU, canon-levels of Everything

Chapter: 21

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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They withdrew quickly from the party, citing their tiring quickly still. Their friends jokingly stated that Rog was just using it as an excuse, but Egalmoth's own admittance to the fact kept them from having to stay.

Tinnuion considered joining them, but his fathers expertly deterred him. "It's been decades, and we nearly died before it happened." Egalmoth pointed out, ruffling his son's hair. "I demand you finally have your wedding, preferably before the year is out." This demand of the nominal father of one of the fiancés, as he predicted, started the more or less serious planning of the event, which the groom could not escape.

"Think he'll forgive us?" Arms linked, the two fathers were making their way back to the royal palace, from which Elenwë had not yet allowed them to return to their own homes.

"In a decade orso." Rog chuckled warmly, looking back over his shoulder briefly as they turned onto the main road. "It's his own fault for taking so long... honestly, for my people, your Noldor-year is already long, and his decades-long wait is just excessive."

His other father laughed softly. "So you have thrown him to the wolves that are our fellow Lords..."

"I do believe that was you, actually." The white-haired Lord mused, before letting them drop into companionable silence until they were actually in the palace. There, they hesitated in the corridor that held the guestrooms they had been assigned.

Perhaps it was all the wine they had drunk before regaining their full strength - and thus, alcohol-tolerance -, perhaps it was something that had been building for the decades they had been parenting the youngest Lord of the Gondolindrim together. Perhaps it was a combination of these things and various other factors. Either way...

"Is it bad that I miss you in my arms...?" The Lord of the Hammer of Wrath rested his hand on the arm still linked through his. "I became used to it with the Avari."

"It was comfortable." The other agreed, leaning against him. "I suppose we could just..." He shrugged, gesturing to the door of the nearest guestroom assigned to them. They both had gotten rooms with large beds, though he suspected Elenwë had been assuming Tinnuion might need to spend time with them and not they with eachother.

"We could." The nearest room was Egalmoth's, luxurious carpet underfoot as they moved through it to the bedroom. "Have I ever complained about the Noldor-obsession with hair?" Arriving at the dresser, the smith's rough hands started undoing the elaborate hairdo Egalmoth's valet had carefully put in just a few hours ago.

"Regularly for your first two years in Vinyamar." The black-haired Lord left his hands on the dresser, back straigth as strange, new hands worked on his hair. "Regularly still when someone suggests something more elaborate than 'ponytail' for you."

"It's ridiculous." Reaching over, he dropped a small pile of clips on the birchwood. "You lot have such fine hair, and then trap it completely. It's a waste." He let some of the black tresses cascade through his fingers, carefully pulling the entire mass back over the silk-covered shoulders to hang down.

"For Noldor, they would weep that you have this perfect white hair and do nothing with it." When the other turned, they were nearly chest-to-chest. Two sets of brown eyes met, though one of them leaned more towards an auburn-red than the chocolate brown other. Reaching up, he had a far easier time undoing the restraints of hair, just needing to pull the elaborate leather braid with gems and metal inclusions - Rog's concession to the need for elaborate hairdo's in his life among Noldor - to free the white cloud of hair. "For Tinnuion's marriage, I insist you let me put up your hair somehow. Just the once."

"Do you really want me to complain right now?" Rog wrapped a single strand around his finger briefly, before reaching for the hooks and ties that kept his robes on his frame.

Egalmoth merely hummed non-committably, undoing his own robes and draping the colourful fabrics over one of the chairs nearby. Rog's monochrome red robes followed shortly after, leaving both in just their pants and loose undershirts once they kicked off their shoes.

In just the light of Tilion, they moved to the wide bed, getting comfortable on the soft cotton bedsheets. Pulling the Lord of the Heavenly Arch close, the smith wrapped his arms around the comparatively slender form, a faint smile forming around his lips as the other Lord snuggled in, hands settling on his chest.

"I wonder..." Moving one hand up, he carded it through the liquid silk in front of his face.

"Mmh?" He felt the shudder of the body in his arms when his fingers touched skin underneath hair. His thumb drew a gentle circle on the ear-tip just a hair's breadth from his face.

"If I let you put my hair in hair-jail, can I insist you wear yours loose... just the once?" There was a sharp intake of breath from the head tucked under his chin when he reached out with his lips to cross that last bit of distance, Egalmoth going tense and hands tightening in his clothes, though he tellingly shifted his head some for easier access.

"That... would be only fair, wouldn't it?" There was a ghost of lips passing over his throat, a part of his body he had covered and held hidden for most of his existence. He shivered, arm around the waist of his fellow father pulling him closer.