Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: Rog/Egalmoth/Maeglin
Warnings: AU, blood, character death
Chapter: 16
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
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"Well, you do hang out with us a lot." Egalmoth murmured softly, reclining on his couch.
"You're my neighbors!" Maeglin sharply countered, pouting on the armchair. "Of course I hang out with you."
Rog snorted at that, hand scandalously deep in Egalmoth's hair. "And that's without her even knowing of all the nights you spend."
The Prince of Gondolin snarled in answer, glowering at the two older Lords of that self-same city. "Don't tempt me, Rog."
He'd fallen into a spiral, after that first time he'd been allowed to ask questions, that had resulted in this mess he was now dealing with.
"Takes after Turgon, doesn't he?" The only full-blooded Noldor stage-whispered.
"Pretty sure Turgon would not survive even the suggestion of ordering us around in bed, my love." The full-blooded Moriquendi tugged on some hair-strands. "Yet here his heir is, orchestrating us like we're a theatre-troupe."
Maeglin snarled again, pouncing on the Valinor-born, who only half-tried to fend him off. Rog, obligingly, mostly made sure their tussle did not take them to the ground.
Egalmoth laughed, using his larger strength to throw the mixed-blood onto his husband. Before the two smiths managed to untangle their limbs, he'd already fled the room.
"Why were you so interested in us again?" The white-haired male chuckled as they took up the chase, a regular occurrence during these days were they mostly stayed at home.
"If I knew that..." The youngest of the three muttered darkly, but tellingly made no move to distance himself again from them. He'd gotten comfortable in this arrangement and was loathe to leave it. Even if that meant total secrecy, because people would lose their minds over it.
At least they had no Fëanor to start a whole other drama-line in the family.
He snorted. "Who would be our Fëanor, you think?"
"Depends on who is the Míriel." Egalmoth called down from where he'd been waiting for them. "Are we going by femininity, or some kind of two-only-characteristic?"
By the time the two hunters had reached the floor he'd been on, he was already gone again. "Though then again, Rog has a similar shade of hair!" The only of the three to actually meet her called from deeper in the house. "And he's my first smith!"
"And an artisan." The part-Sindar decided to forgo the stairs and clambered up the stairwell on the outside. He's rewarded with a yelp from the elf they were jokingly shoving into his great-grandfather's role in the relationship when he managed to cut him off.