Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: Rog/Egalmoth/Maeglin
Warnings: AU, blood, character death
Chapter: 12
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
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Maeglin thanked every Power that Penlod did suddenly remember the door, a few months later dipping into the smithies while he and Rog were working together. It saved him from having to think up a way to bring it up. Rog had just shrugged and declared they'd have more than enough time to think of what to do with it.
He hoped that by the time they did decide, the plantlife had covered up the traces of his visit. He would expire of embarrassment if Rog were to make the connection between the sound he'd heard and the opened door.
But the door very quickly fell to the wayside, because other things occupied his mind. There had never been a secret that love was pretty open, though it was kept to a maximum of two - one very dramatic exception aside - so the fact he lived next to two males in a relationship was not a problem.
After the mortification had faded, he'd started thinking... and what even had been happening that night? He was willing to bet that that was not how love-making usually went. And slightly less willing to bet he should even be calling it that.
Yet when he tried to keep an eye on Egalmoth, he could see no tells beyond a poorly hidden bite-mark too high on the throat to be concealed in any way that was not a full head-wrap. From what he heard of the other Lords' teasing during that dinner, this was a near yearly occurrence for their wedding-anniversary and in fact, more often than not, the Lord of the Heavenly Arch wore worse afterwards.
It did proof a fruitful occurrence, as it meant he could ask questions without having to worry about connected dots.
Turgon assured him that they'd all asked similar ones at some point, though usually directly at either of the married couple. The most he'd learned - and he begged his nephew not share, as he'd thrown around his weight as king to get that much - was that due to Rog spending a good while in Angband, especially of his formative years, his tastes had been shifted to a desperate need to claim what he considered his. Something the two had managed to work out into something both could live with, but which did - could - result in marks upon either bodies.
Maeglin promised not to tell, and while it did calm him some that they had not slipped down an even darker path than his parents had, it did not answer all too many questions for him. In fact, it raised more. And the answers for those he'd likely only get if he approached either of the two Lords.
He could do without that.
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He could not do without that.
Years had passed, and though he had yet to truly stumble upon them again, once in a while their yearly tradition would draw his attention, draw his eye and on rare occasions chance - he hoped it was chance - would leave them in such a spot that he could spot them from parts of his house.
It... intrigued him, what was happening in his neighbor's garden every second year.
But how does one bring up seeing another's intimate moments and wanting to know more about it?
That was something his father's lessons had never covered, and though his mother had been more open about relations, he somehow doubted she'd known exactly what her cousin-of-a-cousin got up to with his husband. Or maybe she'd just figured she'd have plenty of time to bring it up when it got relevant.
He was not considering that line of thought anymore.