Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: Egalmoth/Rog, Maeglin/Salgant
Warnings: AU, canon-levels of Everything
Chapter: 31
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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His actual return to New Gondolin had far less dead fathers than his nightmare might have made him believe. He was in fact greeted warmly by both of them, Rog informing him that full access to the forge had been restored, since he had finished their weddingjewelry. Egalmoth jokingly did warn him not to visit him, as the robes were taking longer.
Despite that, Tinnuion did not feel comfortable going there at night. Part of him - an unreasonable part, he knew - almost felt like he'd turn the events real if he followed even a single step of the dream. Not that that kept him from suffering dearly...
"What do you mean, coronation!?" He squeaked, looking over at his uncle. "Coronation of whom!?"
"Well, you are my heir." Turgon calmly pointed out, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. They were having a family-lunch, those that were in New Gondolin, that is. During which Gondolin's king casually had informed them that the wedding would also have a coronation. "It's about time I officially claim you as such."
"What!?" Tinnuion recoiled, nearly tipping over his chair. "Why me!? You have a whole line!" He gestured to Idril and Eärendil, who were both sitting at the table as well.
Gondolin's princess looked over from where she had been talking with Egalmoth. "Women still can't inherit." She pointed out dryly.
"You are literally sitting right next to your son." He tartly countered, glowering at her.
"Who can't inherit because he's too busy being a star." Eärendil flipped his hair, to the snorted giggles of his wife. "I can only visit Gondolin for short times, since I need to hit the docks every evening; being absent for three-quarters of my time would make for poor rulership."
"And Elrond has his own rulership of Tumfalas, and an heirship to Maedhros." Turgon counted on his fingers with something that could only be called a shit-eating grin. "Elladan is heir to the High King and Elrohir to the House of Fëanor, both of which would have seniority - and thereby, precedence - over any claim by me." He spread his hands lightly. "Fingon's the heir of our father and Argon is his heir, considering his own lack of kids and Aredhel has the same problem Idril has... which then lands me with the only available family-member left; you..."
"Assuming Argon doesn't dibs him as his heir." Aredhel pointed out with a chuckle. "Have you considered giving Idril some siblings, perhaps?"
"I don't know..." Rog spoke up from where he had been eating peacefully until this part of the conversation started. "There's a certain appeal to the prospect of being a King-father."
"It would mean I can finally add some colour to the city." Egalmoth mused, throwing a considering eye out the window to the white expanse of buildings. "Mmmh... how hard would it be to make Turgon disappear before he gets a son, you think?"
"But... but... the people...?" Tinnuion pointed out weakly. There were still - even now - some inhabitants who had not quite forgiven him for what he'd done to Old Gondolin. How would those react if he was made heir of the new one!?
"Most have come to like you, considering how the gossip-machine described you when those two..." Tuor gestured to Egalmoth and Rog. "Took a swim. You probably won't win any popularity-awards, but you will be an acceptable choice if nothing better can be found." He added with a wink and a teasing smirk. "I guess you just have to make sure Egalmoth doesn't let Turgon disappear..."
He groaned at that, to Rog's laughter. "Now you know how I felt when they shoved me into the Lordship of my House when all I wanted was to smith and squish orcs." He groaned again, burying his face in his hands. "Speaking of smithing, I have a thing I want your opinion about, so after lunch, you're coming with me."
"Talk about a non-sequitur." Elwing chuckled, sitting beside Elenwë who was watching the entire thing with fond amusement.
"Is it better to talk about how I considered abdicating my own title in his favour?" The Lord of the Hammer of Wrath pointed out, which made his son make a very interesting sound between a squeak and a wail. "Oh hush, you don't need to start worrying about that just yet... Maybe in a century."
"Dad!" No one was sure whether he was refering to Rog or Egalmoth with that one.
"Don't look at me, I can't do anything for you." Egalmoth shrugged, as if he had been adressed. "I can't steal you from Turgon in that way, and you are the best heir Rog's gonna get."
