Update part II people! I said I would put up a double update, so here it is! Please, read and enjoy. Reviews are welcome, along with constructive criticism.


~Duplicity~

It was done. The letter had been written.

Turgon snapped his head in the direction of his bedroom door when a minuscule sound reached him, waiting for a few tense moments before quickly slipping the piece of parchment into an envelope and sealing it.

What he was doing went against everything they had planned, and could possibly change everything, but he had to do it. Checking to see if the sun had yet risen, Turgon was relieved to find that it was nearing dawn.

He would be done with this soon.

All he needed to do was get this letter to Tyelko, have him take it to the recipient, and he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

He had to do this now, before he changed his mind.

Hastily standing, Turgon checked his appearance in the mirror. Deeming himself fine, Turgon silently walked over to the door to his room and left.

The home of Fëanaro was silent, telling Turgon that everyone was still asleep.

Good.

He was just about to step foot out of the house when a shadow moved in the corner of his eye.

Jumping in surprise, Turgon relaxed when he realized who it was.

"Thurginwethil." He sighed in relief.

"What has you so uptight?" Thuringwethil inquired, genuinely curious. Her dark orbs sought out Turgon's and narrowed when she recognized the uncertainty and apprehension in them. "Something wrong?"

Turgon immediately shook his head, denying it. "No. Nothing is wrong."

"Then what are you so wound up about?"

"This." Turgon admitted, raising the letter he held. Thuringwethil took the letter from his hand, scanning who it was addressed to.

She blinked and slowly looked up at him.

"Are you sure that is a good idea?"

Turgon shook his head. "No."

"Then why are you doing it?"

The tall ner exhaled deeply, gazing out into the sunrise. "Caranthir asked me to, and I agreed."

"Why?"

"I could not refuse him. If you had seen him, Thuringwethil, you would have understood."

Concern flickered through her eyes. "Did something happen?"

"No." Turgon said. "Not yet, at least." He corrected himself.

Thuringwethil hummed in reply, waving the letter in the air. "He's not going to be happy about it." She told Turgon, emphasizing the word 'he.'

"I know." Turgon nodded, but there was something in his tone that caught her attention.

Narrowing her eyes, Thuringwethil asked, "Were you planning on telling him about this?"

She already knew the answer, but Turgon answered anyway.

"No."

"Hm. Well, you had better hurry before they all wake up." Was all she said, sniffing the air. "Huh. Maglor's already awake. And so is your brother."

"Already?!" Turgon murmured to himself, snatching the letter back and placing it in the folds of his robes. "If anyone asks," He started to say, hurriedly descending the stairs to the courtyard, "Tell them I went for a walk!"

Thuringwethil stared after him, watching as Turgon zipped across the Courtyard and vanish into the woods. "Sure thing..." She turned and walked back into the home, nose crinkling when she smelled what the cooks were making for breakfast. "Ugh...I really need to feed soon...All this Elven food is making me sick."

Unknown to Thuringwethil, there were two pairs of eyes watching her from around the corner, blinking at the strange thing she had said.

When she was almost out of sight, they shuffled out of their hiding place and chased after her, curious to learn more about this mysterious servant.


~Duplicity~

Turgon hiked up his robes in order to help himself run better, wishing he had decided to change the night before, but with all of the excitement that was going on, Turgon hadn't been able to.

He hoped he wasn't too late. He knew, from Maglor, that Tyelko always rose up early and went for a run in the woods. If only he could find him...

Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, Turgon examined his surroundings.

He blinked when he spotted a flash of gold and called out, "Tyelkormo!"

There was silence for a little time, making Turgon wonder if he had imagined it. He was put at ease when the gold reappeared and a voice returned his call,

"Turukano?"

Tyelko emerged from the trees, wearing his hunting attire and holding his bow in his left hand. His golden hair had been tied back and out of his face and he was giving Turgon a confused look.

"What are you doing out here?"

Turgon didn't bother to answer, waiting for Tyelko to reach him. "Here," He said, fishing out the letter from his robes and holding it out for Tyelko to take.

Tyelko slowly extended an arm to take it, bewildered. "What is this?"

"That is for the Lord Oromë."

Tyelko whipped his head up to look at Turgon with a startled glance. His jaw dropped. "How did you..?"

"None of your concern." Turgon dismissed his question with a wave of his hand, sternly looking to his cousin. "Be sure that he receives it at once and when you return, tell your brother, Moryo, that it has been done."

Concern flashed across Tyelko's features upon seeing the seriousness in his cousin's eyes. "Is everything alright?"

Turgon sighed quietly. "Hopefully. I suppose we shall see." He vaguely answered. "Will you give it to him?" He asked, gesturing to the letter.

Tyelko thought for a moment, staring at the letter before nodding. "Yes...I will."

"Good." Turgon relaxed a little, guilt eating at a small part of his conscience. It was too late to go back now, however, so Turgon shoved it back. He had chosen to do it, had agreed to help Caranthir, so he was going to stick with it and deal with the consequences later. "Thank-you."

And with that, Turgon left, leaving a bewildered and concerned Tyelko with the letter in hand.


~Duplicity~

"Ah, Tyelkormo, there you are." The voice of Lord Oromë tore Tyelko from his thoughts and the hunter turned to find the Vala approaching him with a kind smile. "I was wondering where you had gone..." Oromë trailed off when Tyelko wordlessly handed him a letter, his brow furrowed. "Is everything well?"

"I don't know." Tyelko honestly replied with a shrug. "I don't seem to know anything anymore. I was just given this by my cousin. He asked me to make sure you received it." He frowned deeply.

"Is that so?" Oromë hummed deeply, turning the letter over in his hands. "I will read it in a moment then. First, I have something I wish to give to you."

Tyelko perked up. "What?"

Oromë smiled again. "Yes. A little gift."

"But..." Tyelko began to protest, only for Oromë to shake his head.

"I insist, Tyelkormo. You have been kind enough to join me on my hunts, and I am afraid this little gift of mine has grown rather fond of you." He chuckled at Tyelko's confusion as the younger of the two raised an eyebrow.

"What is it?"

Oromë didn't answer, instead looking down at the bag that he had slung over his shoulder. "Honestly, little one?" He tsked, reaching into the bag to take whatever was inside it out. The three hunting dogs accompanying him obediently sat down, watching him. "You were the one who pestered me all morning to leave and we finally arrive only for you to hide yourself away as though you are shy?"

A small yip was his response and Tyelko's eyes widened, understanding dawning over him.

Oromë huffed disbelievingly, gently pulling out a small, fluffy white pup and holding it before him. "You are deceiving no one, pup. We all know you are most certainly not shy."

The pup barked back, wriggling in his hold as if protesting.

Oromë wouldn't have it, turning the pup around so it could face Tyelko.

Tyelko stared at it in awe. It was a beautiful little puppy with brilliant blue eyes and silky fur. It was different from the other hunting dogs Oromë had, but Tyelko was sure it was no less skilled.

"Do stop pretending, little one."

The pup, spotting Tyelko, yipped and wagged its tail excitedly, releasing a string of high-pitched barks. Oromë held the pup out for Tyelko and the hunter dazedly took it into his arms.

The pup jumped and pawed at Tyelko, licking at him. Tyelko was too in awe to care. He looked up at Oromë. "A puppy?" Was all he could say and Oromë laughed melodiously.

"Yes. This pup is quite a handful. Eru knows he loves to disobey me, but I suspect he will behave for you." Oromë told him, warmly, reaching out and petting the pup's head. "He is an intelligent little one and has inherited much from his parents. I will warn you, he will grow. I believe he may become the biggest of his entire family."

"I...Thank-you, Oromë." Tyelko bowed as best he could with the pup he was holding and Oromë ruffled his hair, smiling.

"Think nothing of it. It was the little one's idea. He would not let me rest until I promised to give him to you."

"But..." Tyelko looked down at the pup. "I never met him before."

"He watched you from afar and heard much from his parents and fellow family and friends. He will be missed but we know he will be well-taken care of." The Vala said. He watched as Tyelko pet the pup and as the pup settled in his arms contentedly. "Oh, so you will behave for this one, is that it?" Oromë crossed his arms.

The pup released a short howl.

"Oh, yes?"

Another bark.

"I do not believe you."

The pup looked offended and Tyelko laughed. "He has quite a personality."

"Yes." Oromë agreed. "This little one does. It should not be too difficult to understand him. Now," the Vala twisted the letter in his grasp, "To see what these young ones need."

"Young ones?" Tyelko repeated. "I thought it was only Turukano..."

"He may have been the one who wrote it..." Oromë distractedly said, pulling the letter out of the envelope and unfolding it.

Tyelko watched as Oromë scanned the parchment.

He felt his concern rise once more when the smile Oromë wore gradually faded and his normally warm and inviting expression morphed into a troubled one.

After he finished reading, Oromë reread it as if to make sure he hadn't misunderstood it. Once through, he slowly lowered the letter.

"Oromë?" Tyelko questioned, but the Vala didn't seem to hear him.

"This is troubling news..." Oromë remarked lowly, lips pursed. As if remembering Tyelko was still there, Oromë looked to him apologetically. "I apologize, Tyelkormo, but I must leave immediately."

Tyelko's brows drew together. What in Eru's name could the letter have said?

"Is everything alright?" He asked, watching as the hunting dogs stood in sync, sensing their Master's urgency.

Oromë sighed, shaking his head. "I do not know. I had hoped..." He looked away, not finishing whatever it was he was going to say. "It appears we were wrong, though how they know is beyond me." He faced Tyelko once more. "The pup has refused to be given a name by anyone other than you, so feel free to name him. I may not return for some time, but if you ever have need of me, do not hesitate to call."

Tyelko nodded confusedly. What was going on? He could tell that whatever was in the letter had affected Oromë from the look in his eyes.

Without waiting for an answer, Oromë departed, the hunting dogs following after him and Tyelko was left once more to wonder what in Aman was going on.


~Duplicity~

"Atto!" an excited call roused Maglor from his sleep. The minstrel stirred but didn't move. He didn't have to.

Before the poor ner could become a little more aware of the outside world, he was suddenly jumped on by a hyper young Elfling. "Attooo!"

"Oof! Elrond!" Maglor grunted, bouncing a bit as Elrond raised his head off of Maglor's chest and gave him a bright smile. "What in Varda's name is the meaning of this?"

"It snowing, Atto! It snowing!" Elrond breathlessly informed him, pointing towards the window for Maglor to look.

Maglor tiredly rolled his head to the side to find that Elrond was correct. It was snowing. "That's good, Elrond..." Maglor mumbled, wanting to go back to sleep, but apparently, Elrond had a different idea.

"Atto!" Elrond shook him and Maglor wearily glared at him. Elrond barely noticed. "I want to play in the snow!"

Maglor groaned and rolled over, hearing Elrond yelp as he was unbalanced and sent falling into the bed beside his Atto. "There probably isn't enough snow right now, Elrond, and it is too early to play."

Elrond pouted. "No it's not! We always get up at dawn, Atto!" Elrond denied, crawling over to Maglor and nudging him. Maglor sighed and turned back over. Before Elrond could move, he grabbed hold of Elfling and rolled onto his side once more.

Elrond grunted as he was trapped against his Atto with no way to move. He struggled against Maglor's grip, but the arm around him tightened.

"I am not getting up for another couple of hours, Elrond, so you might as well go back to sleep." He muttered sleepily.

Elrond slumped back in defeat.

"Attoooo..." he whined.

"Hush, Elrond."

"But, Atto..."

"No."

A bunch of unhappy grumbling followed after Maglor's response and the minstrel cracked open his eyes, regarding the Elfling in amusement.

"What was that?" He asked and Elrond stilled.

"Nothing." Came the hasty response.

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"I am pretty certain that I heard you say-" Maglor began, but was cut off by Elrond,

"You're hearing things, Atto." The Elfling sweetly said, innocently tilting his head up to look at him. "See, Elros and I told you you were getting old." He added, poking Maglor's arm.

"I beg your pardon?"

Elrond only smiled.

"Ha! He's old?" A new voice laughed, and Maglor jerked awake to find Nelyo had entered his room and was striding over to his bedside. "What does that make me then?"

Elrond didn't even think before he answered. "Ancient."

Both Nelyo and Maglor chuckled at him and Elrond fought to sit up, but Maglor still wouldn't let him move.

"Neeeel!" Elrond complained. "Tell Atto to let me go!"

Nelyo raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "I can't make your Atto do anything, little one, but he is needed anyway."

"I'm needed? This early?" Maglor stared pleadingly at Nelyo. "A couple of more hours?"

"I would let you, Kano, but we have to prepare for the holiday. This year is expected to be the largest celebration yet."

"Why's that?" Maglor mumbled, placing one of his pillows over his head in order to block out the light seeping into his room.

Nelyo rolled his eyes. "Kano. You returned. That is why we are all going to Tirion to celebrate the holiday."

"...What?"

Maglor groggily sat up, dropping the pillow as he tiredly eyeing Nelyo. Valar, all of the excitement from last night had really gotten to him. He hadn't been able to sleep. Nerdanel doted on Elrond, spoiling him with treats, much to Maglor's dismay. They weren't the ones who dealt with a hyperactive Elrond later that night. Of course, the initial shock that Maglor had a son still hadn't released the family from its hold, but they were slowly starting to accept that fact.

"I said, we are going to Tirion to celebrate the holiday." Nelyo repeated himself, biting back a laugh at his brother's appearance. Maglor had the feeling he must look terrible from the amusement glimmering in Nelyo's eyes. "And we have to leave by tomorrow before the snowfall."

Maglor fell back onto his pillows, feeling much like a child as he glared at the ceiling. "All I wanted was a couple more hours of sleep..Is that so much to ask?"

Elrond shrugged. "Now you know how El and I feel." He said unsympathetically. "Come on, Atto! We should help!" He said, completely forgetting to speak in Quenya. He tugged on Maglor's arm. "Think of all the decorations! And lights! Oooh! Do you think there will be lanterns?!"

Maglor helplessly looked to Nelyo. It was Maedhros's fault for showing Elrond those lanterns their Father had created. And the lamps. Ever since Elrond and Elros learned about the lamps, they were obsessed with them.

"Probably. Ask your Andatar. I'm sure he would be thrilled to show you some of his lamps..." Maglor lazily responded, noticing the odd look Nelyo was giving them. "Nelyo?"

Nelyo looked confused as he watched Maglor and Elrond interact. "Kano...What language are you speaking?"

Maglor blinked then mentally face-palmed. Because Elrond had slipped into Sindarin, he had unconsciously done the same. He couldn't help it! His mind switched anytime he heard someone speak in Sindarin or Quenya and he would respond in whichever language was being spoken.

"Sorry. I didn't realize what we were doing." Maglor apologized, sighing when he realized he was now wide awake. So much for getting some more sleep. "But, in answer to your question, it is Sindarin."

Nelyo frowned. "Never heard of it..."

"You wouldn't have."

"Is that the language spoken where Elerondo is from?"

"Yes." Maglor nodded.

Seeing his brother was answering his questions, Nelyo dared to ask another. "Kano...Is Elerondo even from Valinor?"

Maglor paused for a moment, but seeing the uncertain look in his brother's eyes, decided he should at least answer that question. Nelyo deserved to know.

"No."

Nelyo mulled over the answer, but didn't ask anymore questions. Maglor was thankful for that.

"Well," Nelyo clasped his hands together, drifting away from the subject, "There is only one problem with the upcoming celebration."

Maglor curiously looked to him. "What is that?"

"Usually, we hold a play of some kind for entertainment...you remember, usually telling stories of heroes and whatnot," Nelyo started to say, continuing when Maglor nodded. "Well, this year, no one signed up for the play. We have nothing planned and the holiday is in a couple of weeks."

"Oh...That is rather troublesome." Maglor agreed. He was about to suggest a few different people who could quickly put together a play when he was suddenly hit with an idea.

Excitement stirred within the minstrel when he pondered over the idea, a smile growing on his lips. "That's it!" He abruptly exclaimed, causing Nelyo and Elrond to stare at him in confusion. "Oh! It works! Fantastic!" Maglor threw off his covers and slipped out of his bed, quickly putting on his slippers.

"What? What is?" Nelyo asked, watching as his brother rushed over to his wardrobe and threw on the closest robe he could grab.

Maglor darted to the other side of his room, collecting several different pieces of paper off his desk and a few quills, tossing the vessel of ink he had to Nelyo. "Don't worry about the play, Nelyo. I have one in mind." He distractedly told his brother, running through his idea in his mind and taking whatever it was he would need. "It won't take long for me to write down, so you have nothing to worry about. I have the music already composed and everything!" Maglor chattered on, his excitement growing.

Elrond stared at his Atto, a little put off by the sudden shift in his normally quiet, reserved demeanor. What could have possibly made his Atto so...happy?

Clearly, this was also what Nelyo was wondering.

The minstrel yanked his boots on, speedily tying the laces then rushed over to the mirror.

Faster than what Nelyo thought possible, he had his hair braided and tugged out of his face.

Maglor suddenly paused before his brother, thinking over something. "I'll need you, Nelyo." He murmured, still deep in thought. "And Nolofinwë, perhaps. Elerondo, Caranthir...Tyelko and Curvo...Turu and Irissë will need to be a part of it. Oh, this is marvelous!" Maglor clapped his hands together, eyes twinkling brightly, having already been struck with inspiration.

"If you say so..." Nelyo slowly agreed before what Maglor had said sunk into his mind. "Wait...You need me? For what?" Please say for props... Was left unspoken by Nelyo.

"Oh," Maglor shrugged, placing a few more items into Nelyo's arms. "You are going to be a crucial character in the play."

Nelyo didn't like this idea. "You mean, I-" He pointed to himself, "-am going to be one...one of the main...characters?" He rephrased Maglor's words, sounding opposed to the idea.

Maglor nodded. "Yes. And you cannot say no!"

"Kano..." Nelyo started to object. He most certainly did not want to act in front of hundreds of Elves! Valar he was a horrid actor! Surely Kano remembered that?

Clearly not.

Maglor bit back a sigh, turning and pleadingly looking up at his brother. "Please, Nelyo? Consider it my early holiday gift from you?"

Nelyo dropped his head back, hating that he could never say no when his brothers gave him that look. "I cannot believe I am doing this..."

Maglor flashed him a brilliant smile, making Nelyo smile back in return. "Hannon-le, Muindor!" He thanked him, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

The smile sort of faded from Nelyo's face as he raised a questioning eyebrow at the foreign words.

"Welcome?" Knowing Maglor hadn't heard him, too deep in thought about the play he had in mind, Nelyo shrugged and looked to Elrond.

Elrond only shrugged back and they went back to watching Maglor rapidly gather his instruments and lead them away from his room.


~Duplicity~

"Anyone know where Maglor is?" Turgon asked Caranthir, Aredhel, and Thuringwethil when the four met up in the Family Room later that morning. "I've been searching for him all morning, but he is nowhere to be found."

"You probably won't be able to find him for a while." Caranthir answered from his place on the chaise. His arm dangled over the side and he was holding a book in his right hand, dark orbs skimming over its contents. "I heard from Nelyo that he had one of his moments. Usually, when that happens, Maglor hides himself away from the world until he is finished with whatever it is he's doing."

Aredhel nodded. "Findekano said something about that. Apparently, Maglor was so excited about whatever it was he barely paid attention to anything around him. He knocked poor Findekano down a couple of steps when he went rushing off to the market." She grimaced as she thought about the bruise her brother now sported.

"Yes." Thuringwethil growled lightly. "He ruined my perfectly cleaned table in the Study! There is ink everywhere! Not only that, but it stained my clothes..." She raised her apron up for everyone to see the black stains decorating the pure white fabric. "I don't think I've seen someone so engrossed in whatever they're doing. He didn't seem to notice I was even there, and I purposefully made noise."

"That's Maglor for you. It probably has something to do with music, or some other spectacle." Caranthir drawled, lazily turning the page of his book. "Did you get a glimpse of what he may have been writing?"

Thuringwethil hummed an affirmative. "Some play of some kind."

"Hmph. There you go. Our dear Maglor has decided to put together a play for the upcoming holiday. I know Ammë was worried that we wouldn't have one this year."

"Really?" Aredhel perked up. "That sounds exciting! I heard stories of the plays Maglor directed and the music he composed to go along with them! Oh! I can't wait to see it!"

"Oh, you will not only be able to see it," Maglor's voice piped up, drawing everyone's attention to where the minstrel now stood in the doorway. There was a pile of papers cradled against his chest, with ink stains on his glove and face. "You will take part in it."

Turgon slowly rounded on him, catching sight of Caranthir setting his book down and turning to face Maglor.

"Sorry? I don't think I understood you correctly," Caranthir began, "But I could've sworn you just said that we were going to take part in the play?"

Maglor smiled evilly. "Oh, yes, Caranthir, you are. Everyone of us is."

"No." Caranthir immediately denied, shaking his head. "Not a chance."

Maglor quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think I gave you a choice."

Caranthir narrowed his eyes on the minstrel, crossing his arms defiantly. "Why should I do this? I don't want to."

Maglor sighed, casting his gaze down to the ground, shoulders slouched. "It's...It's something I've been thinking about for a while now, to be honest."

"What?"

"Well...I've been trying to think of a way to warn our families of what is to come." Maglor replied, indicating to the papers he held. "And when Nelyo informed me that there wasn't a play, I knew I had to do it! Here," He dropped the papers onto the table, collecting them together and placing them in a neat stack. Once he was finished, Maglor handed them to Turgon. "You will find that I created a story that perfectly parallels ours."

Turgon took hold of the papers, shuffling through them. Aredhel moved closer to him, Thuringwethil and Caranthir following until the three were situated in a place where they could read the papers along with him.

"I figured it might be best if we were to be the main actors and actresses seeing as we know the story quite well. It would have more of an affect on the audience..." He bit his lip when he watched the four finger through the play he had worked hard on to write. "I know it will be difficult for us to do since it would remind us of...some painful memories..."

"No..." Aredhel murmured quietly, taking hold of the papers from Turgon. "I think it is the best idea any of us have had. It would work." The nis nodded, her hands trembling slightly when she read about her part of the play. Maglor had flawlessly captured everything. The emotion he included, the details were on par, and she wondered how Maglor knew so much about everything when he hadn't even been present.

Turgon, Caranthir, and Thuringwethil silently agreed with Aredhel.

"It..." Turgon tried to say, but his voice cracked. Clearing his throat, Turgon weakly grinned as he faced Maglor. "You've outdone yourself, Maglor. Everything you've put into this play...I don't know if the Elves will be able to handle it."

"Oh, they'll love it." Caranthir stated assuredly, peering over Aredhel's shoulder to read the story about him, Celegorm, and Curufin. "We Elves tend to love these kinds of plays...the ones that toys with emotions and makes you sit on the edge of your seat, unable to look away..." He curtly nodded to himself. "They will enjoy it." He swallowed thickly.

Maglor smiled kindly at the remarks. "I am glad." He cleared his throat, trying to lighten the melancholy atmosphere, "The only problem that I have is finding an Elfling to play Elros, and two Elves to play Amrod and Amras. I managed to rope my other brothers into it, and Nolofinwë was kind enough to accept his part...Perhaps Nalara could play Ammë's...and someone can play Atto's."


~Duplicity~

The door to the library creaked open, causing Erestor to stir and look over to see who had entered into his sanctuary.

He found it was the Lord Makalaurë, and he looked to be searching for someone.

Deciding it wasn't worth his time watching the second-born of Fëanaro, Erestor devoted his attention to the book in his hands, greedily taking in all of the knowledge it had to offer. As long as the Lord Makalaurë didn't disturb him, he was fine.

Speaking of which...

Erestor's ear twitched.

Why did it sound like the Lord Makalaurë was coming his way? He was in no mood to be social.

"Erestor,"

Said Elfling silently sighed, snapping his book shut and flashed a slightly irked, slightly curious, look at the young Lord standing to his left. How did the Lord know his name? Hardly any knew him. Oh, they knew him to be the son of a servant and that he preferred to keep the company of his books in his library. He rarely ever left the library, unless it was to return to his Atto's quarters to rest. "Do you require my assistance, Lord Makalaurë?" He neutrally asked, trying to sound as courteous as possible.

Makalaurë seemed to bite back a smirk, and Erestor's violet orbs narrowed.

What did this young Lord find funny?

"I do, as a matter of fact." Makalaurë replied, dipping his chin affirmatively. His warm blue eyes sparkled as he peered down at Erestor from where he stood, making Erestor wonder if he even wanted to know what the Lord Makalaurë wanted him to do. "I know that you have been getting along with Elerondo..."

"Hm, yes." Erestor hummed, seemingly uninterested as he toyed with the corner of the page he was on. "The supposed 'nephew of Nalara' Elfling." He pointedly replied. "'Getting along' is an overstatement. The accursed Elfling bombards me every chance he receives."

Makalaurë grinned. "Perceptive one, aren't you? You see things others do not."

Erestor frowned deeply. "I will have you know that it was quite obvious."

"Perhaps to you."

"I know who the Elfling is."

"I am not surprised."

Erestor hmphed in response, having already lost interest in the topic. "What is it you needed, Lord Makalaurë?"

"Please," Makalaurë dismissed the title with a wave of his hand, "I am only Makalaurë. I am no Lord."

Erestor eyed him for a long, scrutinizing, while before shrugging. "Quite true."

Makalaurë fought hard to keep his expression neutral. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Erestor averted his gaze, wondering if he had crossed the line. "Nothing."

Makalaurë didn't accept the answer. "That is a lie."

"How observant,"

The corner of Makalaurë's lips twitched upwards.

"But I am certain you did not come here to speak about Elerondo."

"No," Makalaurë agreed, "I did not." He clasped his hands together before him.

Erestor waited for him to speak again.

Makalaurë, seeing this, took this as his cue to continue. "I came to ask of you a favor."

Erestor didn't know if he had heard him correctly. Setting his book down in his lap, Erestor turned so he was facing the young Lord, a little incredulously. "You have a favor to ask of me..." He repeated, a little questioningly.

"Yes. You see, I have decided to write the play for the upcoming festival," Makalaurë said, reaching up and tugging a strange of his hair out of his face, "And Elerondo is performing in it...But his twin is not here, so," Makalaurë looked imploringly at Erestor, "I was hoping that you might be able to come and perform in the play as Elerondo's twin."

Erestor blinked.

Then blinked again.

"You wish for me to travel to Tirion...and perform in a play, as that Elfling's twin..?"

"Basically."

"We hardly look alike..."

"Matters not. Your hair color is nearly the same. The only difference is your height and eye color. We could just say you are his brother."

"Why would I do this..?"

"Because Elerondo looks up to you and would be thrilled to have you there."

"I..." Erestor looked down at his book, thinking over what Makalaurë had said. He brushed his fingers over the rough cover, pursing his lips. "I do not know if I can..."

"If you are concerned about your Atto, he will come with us."

Erestor rotated round to stare at Makalaurë. "You have already spoken to my Atto?"

"Yes." Makalaurë answered. "He would agree to it only if you wished to go."

Erestor couldn't believe it, but then again... He scowled lightly. "What agreement was there?"

Makalaurë shifted on his feet, gently raising a hand as if telling Erestor that it was nothing to worry about. "He and you would accompany me to Tirion as my guests for the holiday."

"...Guests?" Erestor had to make sure he had heard correctly.

Makalaurë smiled, and, oddly enough, it made Erestor feel more at ease. It was a warm, inviting smile, and it made the young Lord's eyes brighten. His eyes, Erestor noticed, looked aged. Older than what Makalaurë appeared to be.

Then again, looks can be deceiving. The young Lord was hiding some extraordinary secrets behind those blue eyes, Erestor could tell.

"Guests." Makalaurë affirmed. "You will be able to do as you please. I'm certain you have always wished to visit the the Archives of Tirion."

Erestor's eyes widened at the name and he nodded ecstatically.

Makalaurë chuckled. "I thought so."

Thought, or knew? Erestor asked himself, catching the knowing glint in Makalaurë's eyes. It was a bit unnerving, how well this ner knew him. Perhaps he'd heard of him, the Elfling who never left the library and taking in all of the knowledge the books had to offer.

It wouldn't be surprising.

He knew what people thought of him, and he didn't really care about their opinions. One day, he would become one of the best, perhaps even the best, and widely known scholar the world had to offer. He would show the Elves that even a low-life Elfling of a servant could grow to become like the most wealthy and educated of his kin.

"And, if you would like," Makalaurë added, "I could excuse your Ammë from her duties in Tirion so that your family may be able to celebrate the holiday altogether."

Erestor was stunned.

Why...Why would this Lord be so kind to him and his family? How did he even know about his Ammë? Celebrating this upcoming holiday as a family had been difficult for Erestor and his parents the past few years. His Atto worked for the Lord Fëanaro and his Ammë for the Lord Finwë, which meant they were rarely ever able to meet up as a family unless one of them were given leave from work.

Even then, they could only spend three to four days, perhaps a week if they were lucky, with one another as a family. It was the only way they could earn enough to support their small family. Oh, their Lords and the families they served were always so kind and considerate, offering to give them meals and inviting them to their Feasts, but the family always felt they were imposing.

"You would do that?"

Makalaurë nodded. "I would. My Andatar would understand, and I am certain my Father wouldn't mind."

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why would you do such a thing for my family?"

"Your family deserves it, Erestor. You have done so much for my family, we can at least do something in return."

"I see..." Erestor whispered so softly Makalaurë had to strain his ears to hear him. His violet orbs were swirling with an unknown emotion and Erestor found, that for the first time, he was truly at a loss for what to say.

Makalaurë continued to stand there for a moment, gazing at Erestor with an unreadable expression. His eyes, however, expressed everything he was feeling at the moment. For once, Erestor didn't bother to read into them.

After a little time had passed, Makalaurë seemed to return back to the present and smiled warmly. "I had better go. No doubt Elerondo will come searching for me...Or perhaps one of my brothers, pleading for me to force him to take a nap." He laughed lightly, and even Erestor managed a small grin. He wouldn't lie and claim Elerondo irritated him. The Elfling was a bit bothersome, but he asked questions Erestor was more than happy to provide answers to. Elerondo didn't judge him, didn't keep his distance, or look down upon him because he was a servant's Elfling. It was...different, but also nice.

He had someone to talk to, if he wanted to. Not only that, but Elerondo always seemed to know when Erestor needed silence or time alone and he respected his wishes.

Erestor bit his lower lip, something he rarely ever did, and turned to find the Lord Makalaurë already halfway towards the library doors.

"Lo- Makalaurë!" the dark Elfling called after him. He nearly cringed from calling the young Lord by his name, but since Makalaurë had said for him to call him by his name, Erestor would.

Makalaurë paused, pivoting around to meet his gaze.

Erestor hesitated for a split second, but maintained eye contact. "I will do it."

A bright smile was his response.


~Duplicity~

The next day, Fëanaro, Nolofinwë's, and Erestor, as well as his Father, were packing for their trip to Tirion. Elrond had been so excited after learning Erestor would be tagging along and adamantly declared that he would help him pack his things. Erestor, after several failed attempts in convincing him that he didn't need any help- after all, he didn't have many belongings- but Elrondo wouldn't be deterred. Soon enough, Erestor relented and lead him to his Father's quarters.

Maglor and Turgon had helped one another pack, Aredhel found a way to have Nerdanel bring Thuringwethil along, and the families put everything they would need in the cart they were bringing along Erestor's Father had brought out.

Erestor's Father, a humble and ner by the name of Caladin, was the exact opposite of Erestor. Where Erestor was reserved, Caladin was friendly, and where Erestor was outspoken, Caladin was quiet. It was clear to Maglor that Caladin loved his only son and was willing to do anything for him. He encouraged Erestor in everything that he did and never tried to hold him back. He never made it seem as if he knew Erestor wouldn't get far because he was the son of a servant and a maid. Maglor could see he truly believed his son was capable of doing greater things than he or his wife could ever imagine.

As of now, Maglor and Caladin were loading up Aredhel's cases into the cart, and Maglor found himself enjoying the small conversation they were holding. The two had been talking about their sons, Maglor telling Caladin of Elerondo and Caladin of Erestor. Maglor smiled whenever he could hear the fondness in Caladin's voice as he spoke of his son.

"To be honest, Lord Makalaurë," Caladin was saying, grunting quietly when he accidentally bumped into the cart, "I was concerned for my son for the longest time."

Makalaurë turned towards him, curious. "Why is that, Caladin?"

Caladin glanced over to where his son and Elrond were studying a few different flowers, with Erestor pointing them out and telling Elrond about them. Elrond listened to everything he was saying.

"I feared Erestor would never...never have a friend like Elerondo. You probably know Erestor is...not exactly a social Elfling. He prefers books, and when he cannot read, he is out analyzing the world around him. His intellect is higher than Elflings his age, and that normally means Erestor is isolated from others. He has...never had anyone there for him." Caladin's shoulders drooped a little. "He is more intelligent than I, and I fear I cannot keep up with him. He knows so much, and I know so little. I do my best to learn as much as I can, but he is always far ahead of me. Elerondo has given him the companionship Erestor probably did not realize he needed. Ever since Erestor met Elerondo, it is all he will speak about to me." Caladin fixed Maglor with an immensely grateful look. "I cannot thank your son enough, Lord Makalaurë. I am glad Erestor has someone to talk to, someone who may understand him better than I or is willing to learn all that Erestor knows."

Maglor smiled fondly as he watched Elrond mention to Erestor about the potency of some of the flowers in healing remedies. He grinned at the astonishment reflected in Erestor's eyes as he agreed with Elrond.

"This one," he heard Elrond saying as the Elfling gently cupped an odd-shaped flower nearest him. Erestor leaned over his shoulder and listened to what he had to say. "This one make people sleep. It keep them out for long time."

The minstrel grinned when Erestor corrected Elrond's grammar, and the Elfling's face scrunched a little as he repeated what Erestor had said.

"I believe your son has done much for my own, too, Caladin." Maglor remarked, listening as Erestor patiently explained to Elrond about the complex grammar in the Quenya language. Elrond raptly paid attention to the mini-lesson. "Yes, I am glad for their friendship. Elerondo certainly needs someone like Erestor."

Caladin agreed silently, dark green eyes sparkling upon seeing the slight smile playing on his son's lips as Elrond continued to ask him questions.

"Yes, indeed. They need one another... Other than Elerondo, the only other person Erestor enjoys being with is his elder sister."

Maglor froze, blinking multiple times.

Had he heard him correctly?

Slowly looking over at Caladin, Maglor repeated what the Elf had said in his mind as they shut the back of the cart and locked it into place. "He has a sister?" Maglor asked, a little shocked.

He'd never known Erestor had a sister. Erestor had never mentioned anything about an elder sister to him in Middle-Earth. Then again, Erestor had always preferred never to speak of himself or his past, and Maglor had respected that. There were some times where he would mention his Father and Mother, but never once had he mentioned a sister.

Why was that?

Caladin nodded. "Yes. They are quite close, those two. It always pains them to be separated seeing as I work here and Laira is in Tirion with our daughter."

"What does she do?"

"Well, Laira, as you know, is in the service of the Lord Finwë, and our daughter is an actress, as well as a dancer." Caladin smiled softly as he thought about his family. "She is an eccentric one, my daughter. The polar opposite of Erestor, and yet, the two are inseparable. They write to one another often, sharing stories of what they have done or learned...They miss each other greatly." Sadness glittered in Caladin's green orbs and Maglor bit the inside of his cheek.

The minstrel reached over and grasped Caladin's shoulder. "You have the entire holiday to spend with your family, my friend."

Caladin brightened, though he was a little surprised by Maglor referring to him as a friend instead of seeing him as the poor servant he was. "Indeed, I do, my Lord."

"Makalaurë." Maglor automatically corrected, and Caladin appeared stunned.

"I couldn't-"

"I insist." Maglor gently cut him off, and even though Caladin wished to protest against it, he dared not argue with the young Lord.

"Very well." Caladin agreed.

Their attention was snagged when they heard Erestor's scandalized shout and looked to find Elrond fleeing for his life with a murderous Erestor chasing after him. Elrond was completely unfazed by the fact that Erestor clearly wished to throttle him, the young half-Elven laughing brightly as he easily evaded Erestor.

The family of Fëanaro watched the two run back and forth, Elrond purposefully provoking Erestor by slowing down then speeding away when Erestor was close enough to tackle him.

The families shared a laugh as the chase continued, until Fëanaro announced that it was time to leave for Tirion.


~Duplicity~

There you have it! I do hope it was alright. Bit shorter than I expected, but oh well. I updated, right?
Read and review if you'd like!