Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death, Loss of bodily autonomy (no Non-con)
Chapter: 26
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
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Schilder flinched lightly, eyes staring at the wall beside his bed.
"Master." Their master had held back his uncle from joining them for the night. "I..."
"You have a wife, and several children. I assume she did not do all of it on her own." The Maia pointed out. "Besides, are you really up for defying me this soon after last time?"
The older of the two black-haired elves rolled over, meeting his brother's eyes.
"You are asking me to seduce him." Verloren countered with some remnant of fire. "Master... Mairon... please."
"You don't need to sleep with him... Well, unless you want to." Neither of them could see the conversation, held near the desk in the main part of the floor and neither dare sneak up to the gate penning them in to peek. "You probably don't even have to do much, he was already in bed with you from his eyes alone."
"Why?" The once King of the Noldor sounded plaintive, and severely resigned, if one were entirely honest.
"Because I want an excuse to kill one of them, and this is the easiest way to get it done." The King-in-all-but-name of the far South stated sharply. "Conceited bastards thinking they can get a free pass just because they came to me first. Only honey has never worked, Verloren, and I am not about to make the mistake of not pre-emptively warning again."
"So this is revenge for me not stopping my brother." Fingolfin's youngest sibling answered in resignation. "I am to... to..."
"As said, I don't expect you to sleep with him. Just make him think you want to." Their Master clearly waved their uncle off. "Either you do it, or I'll have one of the others do it." He shrunk down a bit. Until now, Angband's former Lieutenant had respected at least that part of them, but if he changed his mind? Was there anything they could do if he forced this upon them?
"Yes, Master." Clearly, their uncle was not about to risk it and within short order the low gate was opened so that the golden-haired elf could join them in their sleeping-quarters.
The golden-haired son of Finu briefly lingered at the top of the small stair before heading down for his own bed and slipping under the thin cover.
These times, after bedtime, were perhaps the freest they were these days. Schilder slid out from under his own blanket, scurrying over to his uncle. He was gratified to see his brother do the same. Before the eldest of the three had even properly gotten onto his bed, both arms were full with his nephews.
"I could do it." He offered in a low whisper. He was unwed still, so it wasn't like he'd be betraying anyone with it.
"No." They only barely fit on the bed with all three of them, and they had to cling so that gravity would not take its' turn and send one of them tumbling to ground. "No, Moryo, I will do it."
Fëanor's fourth forgotten son swallowed at that statement, tucking himself against his uncle. "What if it goes wrong?"
"Between myself, you two, the wolves and Mairon, I somehow doubt it could possibly go wrong." Fëanor's youngest sibling murmured, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I've dealt with worse."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
It was somewhat sickening to watch, how skillful of an actor his uncle had become since the Before Times. He could see now how Verl... Finarfin had managed to fool the entirety of Angband into believing he was a meek, weak thing that broke under the lightest bit of pressure.
He wanted to run over when the Man took the bait of vague interest - and teasing movements just bordering on deniable - and approached the golden-haired form. His uncle had to be the single most exotic thing in a thousand mile radius, as he had seen Secondborn whose hair at least bordered on auburn-red, but the closest he'd come to any form of blonde was an albino from two villages over that was being trained as wolf-caretaker after being gifted to the Master.
They were in attendance for an evening dinner, to serve drinks and food to the guests. It was perhaps the most expansive dinner yet, all the former chieftains - and therefor current stewards - gathered for the start of the rainy season, which was always cause for celebration.
The former Lord of Thargelion pressed his eyes closed briefly at the alluring sweep of his uncle's leg. After having been forced to turn dance and song into his craft, the former King of the Noldor in Valinor had become a master of his own body. And the use thereof.
Which meant that as they worked, one might well be able to construe all the minute movements as 'flirting' if one were so inclined. And that Secondborn certainly was.
