Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: Egalmoth/Rog, Maeglin/Salgant
Warnings: AU, canon-levels of Everything
Chapter: 37
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 wedding was set for the evening, so that the main bit of the ceremony could be held under Varda's stars... Why that meant he had to arrive at Egalmoth's house at midday already eluded him.
"In here, my Lord." The Steward of the House had led him through the luxurious halls, stopping at a door quite deep in the private wing. Opening the door for him, she withdrew at once.
"Ah, Tinnuion." Egalmoth greeted him warmly, looking up from his current handiwork. "Welcome."
"Hello." He looked in surprise at Rog, also already there. His surprise increased when realizing that Egalmoth's handiwork was an elaborate, Noldorin hairdo for the other Lord. Blinking a few times, he looked between them.
"It was an agreement." The Lord of the Hammer of Wrath kept his head still. "We'd switch hairstyles for your wedding." Keeping his head perfectly stil, he gestured up to where the other Lord's hair was a free-flowing cascade of black, only one single central braid adorning the middle of his hair.
"And if Glaur and Ecthel still will not figure it out after that, we're shoving their faces in the cake." The slender hands started moving again, finishing off the braid they had been in the middle of when he arrived. "Now, Aredhel has taken Salgant's things to him, so you're left with us for the rest of the day." Being all business, the Lord of the Heavenly Arch crossed the room. "You're going to hate me at the end of this, I can tell."
"I'll try not to." He smiled weakly, taking the hands on his shoulders. "Well, what first?"
"Bath, then your underclothes, then your hair, then the overclothes and then the rest of the jewelry." Egalmoth was already wearing his underclothes, from what he could tell, but had thrown a covering set of robes for while he worked. Rog seemed halfway in his hair-part of the planning and very happy with the interruption, considering how he kept touching the braids and sworls that kept most of his hair contained.
Turgon's nephew could not really answer, because he was handed a pile of clothes and shooed into the bathroom, the bathtub full and flagrant with luxuriously warm water. He took his time in it, banishing the cold from his walk here.
"You trying to drown yourself?" Rog called in after a while, so he obligingly climbed out and dressed in the black clothes he had been given. They fit perfectly...
"Sit here." His primary father was in his element, efficiently setting to the task of working on his hair. Beside them, Rog still kept tugging on his own hair, looking for all intents and purposes as if he desperately wanted to undo it all.
"So..." The fingers on his scalp were relaxing and he leaned back lightly. "I notice you gave me full black after all..." Tinnuion gestured to his clothes with a small grin.
"That's what you think." The other black-haired Lord grinned as well, turning to Rog. "Think we should show him his robes?"
"Oh, definitely." The white-haired Lord rose from the bed, heading over to the door of a side-room. Gentle fingers pushed his face forward, keeping him from seeing through it. It allowed him to only hear the soft grunt as his secondary father moved something heavy.
"You didn't need to move all three..." The other elder Lord chuckled in amusement.
"As if one will get the point across." Rog countered a touch breathlessly. "There we go, three sets of robes."
The fingers disappeared, allowing him to turn, which he promptly did. Gasping, he shot up from his seat. All three had the same style and cut, two lined with black fur, the third with a pale grey that might well be white. Two of them were dark and one lighter. "Your mother has a similar outfit, just cut in a more feminine style and mostly white and light greys." Egalmoth stated, as if he did not realize how very much these robes were a family-set he was casually introducing.
Swallowing, he knew who had which; the one with pale-grey fur had to be Egalmoth's, though it was not the Lord's normal colourscheme. Instead of a warm summerday, this brought to mind a warm summer night, a deep blue instead of the regular sky-blue, making the light fur seem like spun starlight. Rog's was a dark burgundy, while his own was a neat and comfortable black. At the front, all three had delicate filigree stitching, sparkling in the light.
"The backs are better." Rog beckoned him over with an enigmatic smile. So he did, several steps moving him to behind the three mannequins... and tears shot into his eyes. These robes had large devices added to the back, partly dyed and sown, partly embroidered.
Rog's device was largely what he usually had; an anvil, black-and-red-iridescent fabric sown onto the thick velvet. The hammer was embroidered with gold thread, and the sparks - usually monochrome gold or yellow, depending on the medium - were dozens, if not hundreds of sparkling gems of all kinds of shades of yellow, orange and red lovingly added to the burgundy expanse over the entire back.
Egalmoth's was fully new though to accomodate the darker colourscheme, as instead of the regular rainbow heptagon, it lightened to the bottom, as if one was watching the sunrise and the heavenly arch after which his house was named seemed to be the Northern Aurora instead of the usual Rainbow, waves of gems and embroidered metallic threads of all colours delicately added onto the dark blue velvet. Some larger opals brought to mind the stars shining through the colourful curtains of light.
But his own... Powers... his...! Tinnuion sobbed, sinking through his knees in front of it, hand reverently reaching out to carefully brush the fabric. 'Not mine or Rog's colours and devices' His father had said almost two seasons ago. He had never considered he might have been planning to do both at the same time.
He had an anvil like Rog, but this one had embroidered silver sworls over its' surface. Behind it, the fabric brightened to Egalmoth's skyblue as if the fire was burning hotter than most forges could even manage, the gradient such that it was black by the time it hit his sides. The hammer was silver, and again far more elaborate than his secondary father's... And the sparks were the rainbow hexagon Egalmoth's robes lacked. Both of them clearly and obviously staked their claim with this, almost more than if he had just worn their own devices.
"I assume you approve." He became aware of both of them on the ground with him, their bodies leaning warmly against his. He sobbed again, tears blurring the image, leaving only a wash of colours and shine.
"I think he does." Rog softly stated, strong arm around his shoulders.
Trembling, he wheeled around, pulling both of them into a hug. "I love you... I love you!" Likely, he could never express the sentiment enough, but he had to try. "Love... love... love..." Crying ugly tears, he buried his face in them, their arms the only thing that kept him from utterly drowning in his emotions.
"We love you." Both returned the sentiment. "Our son."
