Category: Tolkien-Universe

Rating: M

Couples: Egalmoth/Rog, Maeglin/Salgant

Warnings: AU, canon-levels of Everything

Chapter: 46

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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The huts looked just the same as he remembered, colourful fabric and leather designating who lived where. Mentally, Rog catalogued which he recognized - or could reasonably guess - and which were new. There were murmurs around him, of the same kind as in Insai's village; the old recognizing him and marvelling at his return, and the young curious about this stranger the old recognized but none had ever seen on these shores.

He stopped following when noting the the hut she had been heading for; white - or at least as close as you could get out in the wilds - fabric with red leather. His mothers' colourcombination. His heart raced at the sight and the knowledge that it was a matter of moments now.

Insai, noting his mood, stopped walking and just looked at him. For all that she was annoying and exasperating, she was a kind soul under it all. She could tell.

"On the one hand, perhaps we should have send word..." He mused, forcing himself to move. His horse obligingly followed, keeping pace. "On the other, she probably felt us five hours ago?"

"Sounds about right." The small form ahead of him crossed her arms as she spoke. "Though rumour has it she has a range of seven hours by now."

"What... is she trying to do as Melian did?" His mother had always been skilled at plant-communication and had put perimeters around their village where the trees and other green things would warn her of visitors, good and bad. She had not thought to do the same with their travelling-camps, to all their detriment on that one autumn-day.

"Something like that." She shrugged, reaching for his elbow and towing him over. Between their size-differences, he probably could resist, but part of him was grateful for her. He nearly did stop her though when he realized she was intending to just barge into the hut, instead of at the very least just knocking. "Hey, look who finally showed his face!"

"Insai!" Rog's heart clenched into the size of a pea at the sight inside the hut. His first mother was sitting beside a low fire, weaving a basket of some kind. If not for her far finer clothes than she ever had worn in Beleriand - probably from trade with Noldor or Sindar - he might well have thought himself back in Estolad, returning from a day of foraging in the forest.

The white hair he had inherited from her was a free cascade over her fur-cloak, mixing with the light-grey hair of what probably had been a wolf of some kind. She rose slowly, carefully leaving her work in progress in a very specific position he had come to know well. Slender, she was of a size like Coruneth or Insai, but unlike either, she looked frail still. Being re-embodied had clearly not improved her weak body which often had driven her loved ones to despair. It did make him wonder if anything one was born with was just forever...

"I hear." The older female walked over slowly, with the same measured steps to keep from stumbling. Her red eyes - he had only partly inherited - were still mostly unseeing, most of her life being led by touch and sound whenever his second mother was not around to share vision.

"My little snowflake." She reached her hand out and he sank through his knees to rest his head against it. It was promptly joined by her other, both mapping out his features until she could see them. Despite their seeming frailty, their touch was firm and strong.

"Mother." He choked it out, trembling on the fur-covered ground of the hut. He had not even noticed that Insai had withdrawn from them, leaving the building empty except for them.

"Where were you, my snowflake?" She demanded, stepping up and keeping a hold on his head. There was a faint tremble in them.

"In darkness..." He breathed, emotions nearly tying his throat closed too much to speak. "Too much darkness to carry home." He did not grab her, did not cling to her as if he were a small child, as even before the orcs got their hands on her - and he thanked Eru still that he only ever had seen her corpse and did not know what had reduced her to that state and what had happened before that - she had not liked sudden touch. "It is only recently I felt myself in the light again... felt clean enough again to return."

He nearly chuckled at that. Egalmoth held the opinion that Beleriand had broken everyone, and his lover did not know that this thought even held true even for those that were born there. Though to be fair, in his case it was probably that Angband had broken him and only now, secure in a cloud of love, both romantic and filial, he was fully healing from that. A mere century ago, he'd have broken bones if someone touched his throat.

"We would have welcomed you." She choked it out, grip tightening and nails starting to dig into his cheeks. "We searched for you."

"Insai told me... but... I don't think I'd have allowed you." He leaned his head against one of the hands. "The things I saw... I did..." He took a deep breath, nostrils filling with the scents of his childhood. "I am named demon, these days... it is a fitting name."