Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: Egalmoth/Rog, Maeglin/Salgant
Warnings: AU, canon-levels of Everything
Chapter: 53
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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Turgon suspected none of his Lords got any work done that day, though to be fair, he also didn't do much beyond meeting Rog's extended family. Rog had found his steward on the way to the fountains and set the poor man to work to arrange a feast.
Glorfindel looked highly conflicted that evening when they gathered in the House of the Hammer of Wrath and he saw the garden for the first time. The rest of them were just intrigued at the remodelled trees. He figured the Vanya-Lord would soon get over the emotional stuck-upness regarding his botanical achievements having been redone and start comparing notes to who-ever had been the creator of this Avari-village in New Gondolin.
Looking over to the barbecue, he quirked a smile at the sight of the two engaged Lords looking like they were not going to let go any time soon... or at least, that Rog would not let go any time soon.
"You have to inform me, how un-Noldory is he right now?" The albino mother, and a more non-descript male, approached him from behind. The other mother was in a group that involved poor Tinnuion clearly being put through the wringer. He probably should go save his nephew soon, if no one else would.
"About as non-Noldory as he usually is." The King of Gondolin turned to face them, tilting his head. "Ah, I believe we have not met yet?" He added towards the male, which he now realized probably was an uncle of some kind, looking related to the brown-haired mother, perhaps her brother. "Turgon."
"Doron." He inclined his head lightly. "I would be his sire." He gestured towards Rog with his chin, who seemed to be considering the issue of rescuing his son. "Father, in your people's sense of the word, though not ours."
"So I am already figuring out, yes." He swept an arm towards a set of sitting-spaces, since he towered over them to a ridiculous degree - at least for the mother. Considering everything, he did not want to have to literally look down upon them all the time. "How un... tribelike?..." He probably needed to ask the proper term for their tribe at some point. A thing to remember at a later point in time. "Is he being? There's been plenty complaining about our minimum of a year of courtship, so I know that already."
"Stone houses are weird, especially to this size." The brown-haired male waved his arm at the residence of his... son, was that an appropriate term in the context? "And we can't even say it works for defensibility compared to our huts, considering how he died."
Turgon flinched at that, remembering what Aredhel had told him about Egalmoth's break with his family. He did feel guilty about practically all of them having died in Beleriand and having to potentially explain his failure to keep them safe towards their family... It was one of the more painful experiences of his life.
"Doron." She admonished the male beside her softly. "You're upsetting him."
"Ah..." Before he could even back-paddle or otherwise assure her that it was fine, she continued on.
"You need not defend yourself to me. I failed myself in keeping my people safe..." She smiled in melancholy, red eyes aimed somewhere at his chest since she probably had to go on sound to know where he was. "And my son was about the only one who survived a decade beyond my failing as we currently know, so the fact that you had survivors that did not die at all is already far better than I, and as such I have no leg to stand on to complain about your leadership."
"I was warned." He felt the urge to point out, ignoring that he was kind-off bringing down the mood.
"So was I." The one introduced as Marilla countered softly. "Don't try and fight me, Noldo, I win always."
"Except that one bet with Phara about the first kid you'd have." Doron dryly snorted. "That you lost spectacularly."
"I don't know, matters seem like they might be going in my favour again." She allowed the change of subject, and Turgon gratefully decided he'd follow as he'd be able.
"Oh?" He beckoned over one of the servers, taking three glasses of wine from them. Hesitating briefly, he finally handed her glass to her companion, who put it against her hip which seemed to be the right move as she picked it up herself.
"An inside joke, which I suspect might hurt your poor Noldo-sensibilities." She laughed softly, taking a considering sip from the wine in her glass. "To the point where you will not be able to look him in the eyes for the next decade, from what I noticed."
"I will consider myself warned." He assured her.
"Now, do tell my about my new kin, if you please. I want to know how accurate my son's description of them was."
Now that, he'd gladly do. Even if the both of them might want to see him returned to his fountain if they ever found out.
