Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: Egalmoth/Rog, Maeglin/Salgant
Warnings: AU, canon-levels of Everything
Chapter: 43
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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He was half-lucky a week later. He did find the village, and the people in question were members of his tribe, but his family was not among them. He did meet one of his childhood-friends, one who had been dubiously lucky to have died when the orcs overran their village, sparing her the entire mess of thralldom.
"I can show you the way to them tomorrow. It's a bit late now." The auburn-haired female offered, having invited him and his horse into her hut. Both of them were pointedly ignoring the people they both heard listening in on the outside. The older ones, the ones from Beleriand, were amazed that he had returned to them after all this time, while the youngsters were simply curious about this newcomer that was greeted like an old friend and yet had clearly never been seen by any of their tribe. "We became so many it was decided to split the tribe during winter, to keep the pressure down on the lands."
"I'd appreciate it." Only now he realized exactly how long it had been since he really spoke in his mothertongue. Coruneth, being from a different tribe, could not know, but he had an accent now! "It's been so long..."
"Yeah, what's up with that?" Crossing her arms, she frowned at him. "How long have you been around? And why did we not get informed!?"
"Ah... I..." He frowned a touch at that. "I made friends, and they... took my death poorly." To say the least, practically all Lords of Gondolin had been in tears when he encountered them the first time, in the Halls or outside of them. For all that the Noldor nearly encouraged suicide-runs, that the former thrall had been the first to fall the way he did had stung them. "So..." If he were entirely honest, there had been no reason not to look for his tribe... at least, no reason he wanted to bring up.
"Ah well..." She waved it off. "You'll have to tell me everything on the way. You look like one of those Noldor now!" She laughed, poking the fur on his travel-cloak. "Also, muscles." One of her hands flapped at his entire body. "Where did you find those!?"
"You act as if I was a scrawny birch-tree back then... I did tell you I would fill out!" He crossed his arms now, growling at her. "I notice you still didn't grow any, though." His grin was toothy, as she growled at him now. "So what has been happening around here?"
"Well, a whole bunch of kids..." She gestured to the walls of her house. "None immediately relevant to you, no siblings or cousins, or niblings. Most of us died quickly and have been carving out a space here for like Ages... I think the first of us arrived halfway through what people call the Second Age? Shortly after the first tidings of Mairon came about." She made a face. "Your mothers were among the very first. I think..." Worrying her lip, she looked around awkwardly briefly before continuing. "They never found you in the Halls, none of us did... I think they went early in the hope you'd be here, once they heard that a large number of people had moved here."
He flinched at that, looking away. "No... I... I was in the Halls myself and only left at the end of the Second Age. I asked for my friends to be informed... I did not consider asking after any of you." He noticed her gearing up, no doubt to tear into him in a way that seemed more likely to be physical than verbal. "Insai, I lived. Unlike all of you, I survived that place!" He snarled it, self-loathing growing inside him. "I escaped alone, and then still died like a hare in a snare! Worse, I dragged several thousand lives with me when I did." Looking away sharply, Rog considered the horse. "I hated myself for that for ages, literal Ages, no matter that they all forgave me and had followed willingly." He sighed, expression falling. "I... didn't want to make people deal with that."
"Your mothers would gladly have." She pointed out, reaching for the herb-tea that had been boiling beside the central fire and pouring him some. "They missed you desperately."
"As I did them." He took a deep breath. "Better late than never?" He suggested hesitantly, taking the offered drink and then a sip. His face scrunched up before he could stop it. Powers, he had forgotten that one.
"You've really been Noldor-fied, haven't you?" Insai laughed brightly at his face. "I have honey, if that'd help?"
"No, no... It's fine, I just needed to taste it again." He managed to keep his face from deforming the second time around. "I'll admit, I did not miss your bloody potions. Wine's superior." He considered the drink, wondering how his Gondolin-family would react to tasting something like that. The thought brought a small smile to his lips. "On another note, could I get some to take back to my friends?" He looked over at her, noting her amusement at the 180 in his opinion.
"Torturing your friends? I am all down for that." So down, in fact, she headed over to the claypots in the corner immediately. Clearly, some things had not changed, despite the passage of time. "How many?"
"Hmmm... let's say 20ish, depending on how nice they are when I get back." He grinned, accepting the pouch she threw him. "Thanks."
