A bit of warm and fuzzy to start the weekend off right. Takes place before Melkors release from Mandos, ie. happier days.
For those new to the silm:
Tyelkormo: (sindarin: Celegorm )
Fëanáro: (sindarin: Fëanor)
Because I insist on using Quenya because of reasons...
"I am going to kill those birds!"
Nerdanel slowly put a hand to her mouth at the blasphemy; watching her husband for any sign of malicious movement. It took a fine sense to tell when Fëanáro was simply saying something rash from when he was actually planning something rash. It was a sense that she and his father alone seemed to possess.
Noting her husbands growing agitation she held her silence; knowing that even a word now would only pour more fuel onto the fire. Nerdanel looked up at the ceiling; through which the sound of short, persistently urgent chirping could be heard - the cries of the newly hatched calling out for their first meal.
And of course Fëanáro had to have heard it even in his forge.
"They don't shut up - they won't be quiet! I can't think! I can't work! Those birds have to go! I will get rid of them even if I have to throw them off the roof myself! What is with these accursed BIRDS!?"
"BIRDS?!"
The two adults froze.
Nerdanel grew still with apprehension as she watched her husband turn to face the young golden-haired boy that was now beaming up at him. The elven-princes eye was twitching with frustration but his voice was even as he spoke.
"Yes, Turka. Birds. Baby birds that chirp all hours of the day and night ON MY ROOF."
Tyelkormo grinned. "So Ti-ti and Ku's eggs hatched! They're probably so proud!"
"Ti-ti...and Ku?"
The small elf nodded. "Yep! They spent a long time building that nest in the eaves and it took so long for them sitting on the eggs that I thought maybe they went bad - but I guess not! How lucky!"
"Yeah..." Fëanáro grumbled. "Lucky."
"I'm gonna go congratulate them!" Tyelkormo declared, his shrill child's voice echoing in the entryway before he raced outside, skirting the edge of the house with eyes drawn upward and his voice warbling with all the trills and whistles of birdsong.
Nerdanel giggled. "So...about those baby bi-"
"Do not speak to me of baby birds."
Fëanáro looked up at the nest. On the edge was perched a downy ball of feathers newly grown and finally fully formed. First the small creature wheeled its wings in a flurry of unnecessary exuberance, the ungainly motions eventually smoothing into controlled rhythm. Then it sat a moment and stared at the horizon. Another moment of wheeling wings followed. Then with quick motions it preened, teasing individual feathers gently through it's beak.
"GET ON WITH IT!" The elf finally screamed, golden eyes flaring with anger.
"Squaaaaaark!"
The bird wheeled it's wings in a flurry of terror, lost it's balance and fell out of the nest. And a moment before it was too late it's wings locked into a glide even as the creature chattered in disorganized high-pitched tones.
A correspondingly tiny cloud of dust raised where it landed and for a while it sat in the dirt, twitching it's head and shoulders from side to side with watchful energy. With far more grace than their hatchling a pair glided to the rescue, comforting their offspring with clicks and croons until it finally stood again. Flapping vigorously it at last pulled itself into the air for a short flight, it's parents trailing behind it as they flew off across the field.
Fëanáro sighed. "That's better."
By next spring Fëanáro had added bird-proof gutters and eaves to his list of inventions; much to the confusion of many of his elven kin.