Category: Tolkien-Universe

Rating: M

Couples: Rog/Egalmoth/Maeglin

Warnings: AU, blood, character death

Chapter: 14

Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me

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He sighed, toying with some random scrap metal. After the talk with Egalmoth, it seemed his neighbors were taking more care in not slipping up and being visible.

He actually kind of missed the show. There was something strangely wholesome about the interactions he could spot, particularly at the end. It was wild, if he were entirely honest, that he'd almost gotten used to occasionally see a chase in progress in the other garden.

But well, he could understand them wanting their privacy. Probably would have combusted himself from, had it been him in Egalmoth's shoes. Both of them however were dealing with it easily, it seemed to him.

There had been a few weeks were Rog was a bit more closed-off, likely because Egalmoth had let slip they'd been seen, but that had smoothed out after a while.

He sighed again, starting to bend the wire that was also on the table. There was one downside that had developed during this decade in Gondolin however; Idril was being weird. He'd tried to make some overtures towards his cousin, since... well, they were cousins, but it seemed like she'd misinterpreted something somewhere, or perhaps could just not forgive his father for killing her aunt.

Either way, he was starting to figure he'd better just cut her off, because there was probably no way to get a working relationship out of that mess. Best to keep it cordial, rather than worsen it by trying to better it.

"My Lord?" His seneschal knocked on the door. "You have a visitor."

"Oh right, tell them I am coming." At least the friendship with his neighbors was still going strong, even with the small hickup. They still dragged him outside more often than he came out willingly, and today was one of those days. Or well, evenings.

He slipped on the vest he'd left hanging over the back of a chair, then headed downstairs.

"Took your time, Mole." Rog greeted him, having actually put on something more dressy than forge-clothes. Granted, it was still seven degrees less formal than even a Sindar would wear, and about ten less than his Noldor husband, but progress was progress.

"Some of us try to fit with the Noldorian majority." He countered, dipping his head towards Egalmoth.

"I feel if we do groups by non-Valinorian and Valinorian, Valinorian would actually be a minority at this point." The bejeweled Lord of the Heavenly Arch chuckled. "It's just that there's more sub-groups in the first."

"How did Ecthelion call it again? Turgon's elvish stew?" Maeglin followed them to the event of the evening, a concert of Ecthelion, with the occasion being a winning-streak of some kind against Glorfindel. He hadn't asked too many questions.

"I think he used a different word." The Lord of the Hammer of Wrath snorted, husband's arm hooked around his. "But to speak of better things, how's that project going?"

"The one I don't want you to know about?" He dryly specified, which granted him a smirk. The other smith kept trying to trip him up, but he managed to keep it a secret yet. "Is this some plot to get me to make my own forges or something?"

"He is a curious boy." Egalmoth smiled fondly at his husband. "Bit of a puppy."

"I will bite you." Said husband threatened.

"Should I take a different route?" Maeglin pointed at a side-street they were passing. "Or do you two...?"

"No."