Category: Tolkien-Universe

Rating: M

Couples: Egalmoth/Rog, Maeglin/Salgant

Warnings: AU, canon-levels of Everything

Chapter: 62

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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Tinnuion bitterly regretted his agreement to letting his grandmothers pick the clothes of his primary father, because his secondary father was indeed appreciating the sight far more than he liked.

Salgant was no help, amusement flooding their own marriage-bond. "At least it looks like they won't stay much longer?" The brown-haired elf suggested, unable to keep his chuckles fully contained.

The son of the two newly-wed elves only barely stopped himself from glaring at the teasing, sitting so close to them that they might well notice. Not to mention the rest of the gathering... Rog had managed to heavily reduce the size of this wedding compared to the one half a year ago, but considering they both were Lord of the Gondolindrim, there was still a substantial guest-list that resulted in even this small party being almost a hundred people. And from the sounds floating in over the garden-walls, there were plenty parties going on in the city itself.

"I'm trying to offer you a positive here..." The Lord of the Harp patted his leg comfortingly.

"I'm trying not to consider what's going to happen once they disappear." He heroically managed to suppress his shudder at the thought. He could understand Idril now, considering he had overheard her complain that her parents were apparently planning on a child. The child-point was rather moot for his two fathers, but the thought still applied. "How did Maedhros deal with this?" It probably was one of the few times he outright pitied his Fëanorian cousin, what with knowing six confirmed times that his parents did... ugh...

"You can ask him?" The law-son of the couple gestured to the other side of the table, where said Son of Fëanor sat with his kin. As one of the Amrhosco counted Egalmoth a friend - and Egalmoth did likewise - they had invited them along with most of the Houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin. However, most of the guests were some manner of non-Noldor, Rog's entire extended family having arrived the week before the wedding and now attending the Noldo-ceremony. They had politely sat through the - what they called silly - event, and in turn had taken on the duty of planning the feast afterwards, which everyone was currently attending.

Tinnuion suspected his grandmothers had put him within sight of his fathers intentionally, because his place looked almost perfectly at them... and since the style of seating was more a thing of 'reclining on furs and pillows', this left partners from almost spooning unless they wanted to sit crosslegged the entire time. From what he saw, only very few of the attendants had decided to stay seated.

The Lord of the Heavenly Arch was in front, which was partly common sense, as the Lord of the Hammer of Wrath was far wider and thus harder to reach over, but certainly partly it was because the white-haired Lord could not seem to stop touching his new spouse. It were light touches, mere brushes of fingertips and lips, but Tinnuion knew...

He was not visiting them for the next week orso, because he did not trust them to let him keep his eyes. Then again, considering what he had already walked in on, he'd better not visit them ever again. He rested his head on his hand, reaching for some of the food in front of him. At least the food was good, so that was something in his favour today.

On the soft furs, the other black-haired Lord chuckled warmly, whispering something to the white-haired Lord behind him. Rog grinned with almost too much teeth - if one were to ask Tinnuion, but he might be biased - and lowly countered. Considering everyone else was talking on normal levels, he could not hear what they were talking about. He suspected they were making fun of him... anything else was far more information than he'd want to ever know, thank you very much.

In front of him, Salgant rolled onto his back, poking his chest. Having his spouse's attention, the husband of the heir apparent of New Gondolin looked pleadingly up at him.

"Really?" Still, he was trying to be a good spouse, so he obliged the unspoken request and held out some of the sauce-dipped bread for the other to take. "Lazy..."

"Brooding... This is a wedding, not a funeral."

"Funeral to my mental well-being." He countered softly, reaching for some more food now that he had to feed two. "bleh..."

"Could be worse."

"Mmh?"

"You could be the poor servant assigned to bring them their breakfast tomorrow?"

"True..." Thank the Powers for small mercies...