(no subject)
[OOC: Written with Maglor and Maedhros muns in Writely!]
Námo had gone, left to his Halls for the time being, while Nerdanel remained home. It was quiet at the moment, being just herself and Feaho. As she worked her embroidery, Feaho rolled about on the floor, playing with some of the toys his elder brothers once played with. Already his first tooth had come in, signaling to Nerdanel that her youngest son would be moving from his milk-diet to a diet of more solid food. She sighed as she watched him, content with playing by himself, seeing both herself and his father in his face.
She had hoped her other sons would have been in the home, but they hadn't returned to their mother's residence yet. Obviously her mother kept the house aired and cleaned, but there had been a distinct sense of it being unlived in for a prolonged time. Immediately, she had set about making the house a home again. Bread had been baked this morning, windows thrown open to the spring air, fresh flowers adorned various tables -- it was home. Home in a way Milliways could never be.
Softly, she began to sing, her bare foot tapping the air in time as her needle slid in and out of the fabric and her son laughed and amused himself.
For some reason, Maglor hadn't taken to wearing Elvish robes again; he looked still rather human, walking in in a tee-shirt and terribly scruffy trousers. He sat cross-legged on the carpet beside his little half-brother and took out his harmonica to play along with his mother's song for a while.
Stopping abruptly, he asked, "Have you heard of the others yet? I talked to the twins a bit last night; they were being a bit cryptic."
Nerdanel raised her eyes, smirking. "You would meet them looking as you do? Come now, Cáno, you look like Gorlim's true brother." She chuckled. "But no, I haven't heard word of them. All I know is that they have grown. Are near their maturity with some memory restored. That was all Lord Mandos would tell me."
"Bah, Maedhros will know me in any kind of get-up," Maglor shrugged. "I feel silly in silken robes with complicated braids in my hair now." He played a few bars on his harmonica again, and smiled at Feahelce. "The little one will be able to bite soon," he added. "And soon, I can start teaching him to play the recorder." Any elf would need a musical education, of course. As far as Maglor was concerned, that was the most fun about having kids.
Noises drifted in from the outer room -- footsteps, two sets. One heavy with boots, another more delicate and accompanied by a distinctly feminine giggle. Maedhros' voice joined the sounds a moment later when the door opened. "We can spend some time here. It's my mother's house and she's... right... here... with my brother. Well. Isn't this a surprise?" He kissed the young maiden on the cheek. "I'll come by later and see you?"
She only nodded and turned to leave the house with only a small wave to the other occupants.
Maglor stood and picked up Feahelce, ready to get himself out of the way again. If he wasn't yet remembered.
Her eyes moved from infant and grown son to Maedhros, her eyes going wide and embroidery falling to the floor. She didn't trust her legs, so she didn't stand. It was one thing to see her son as a child, without memory... it was another to see him on the cusp of manhood speaking of her as his mother.
"Nelyo..." she breathed with disbelief.
Maedhros smiled at her. "Suilad, Nana." He crossed the room and knelt beside her chair. "I wasn't expecting you to be here," he confessed, a little guiltily.
Her fingers came out to touch his face, marveling. It was her son. A son long lost to her... but he was him! "I... the Lord Mandos and I thought it was time your brother see his home... his brothers..."
The red-haired young man nodded and turned to the other two in the room. Seeing Feahelcë, Maedhros grinned and stood. "It seems not long ago I was barely larger than him. Such tricks with time the Lord Mandos plays! May I?" he asked, reaching his hands out.
Maglor nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Maedhros did at least recognise his mother again. Scruffy brothers and other unimportant things could come later, could they? He held out the baby to Maedhros, hoping the stranger wouldn't scare the little one. But then, the family resemblance with Nerdanel would be very reassuring.
Maedhros accepted the child carefully, rocking him to quiet the little complaints at being moved around so much. Then, quietly, "Yes, I recognize you as well, brother. Even though you scarely look like an Elf in that ridiculous outfit."
There he was, barely a hundred years old in that new body, and already being the big brother at him again! Maglor chuckled, and shook his head. "I've been used to not being an elf for many millennia," he said. "Robes and cloaks and complicated braids feel a bit silly to me now. You should be glad I'm not wearing my old leather jacket. I am glad to see you again as well, brother."
Now, at last, he dared to smile.
"If you can remember our language, I'd think you could remember how to braid your hair in the custom of your House," she teased Maglor as she stood up. Of all her sons, Maedhros the Tall had exceeded his mother's height. She walked over, looking down into Feaho's face. "You remember Feahelcë, Nelyo?" Her eyes shimmered, but tears didn't spill. "You fell asleep against my belly when I still carried him."
"Yes, I remember him," he replied. "I remember all of the time I spent in that strange tavern as a child. Not that I have spoken of it to many here, and there were some years when I thought it childhood illusion. But I recall it all with clarity."
"That strange tavern is where we have been living for quite a while now," Maglor said, "and where our littlest brother was born. I'm glad you know me again, even if you don't like my hair."
Grinning brightly now at his brother.
Maedhros reached out with his gloved right hand and tousled Maglor's hair. "Your braids were always sloppy anyway."
Nerdanel's heart swelled and now the tears fell. Feaho squirmed in Maedhros' arms, tugging at the hair just a little darker than his own, shoving the tress in his eager mouth. She laughed, wrapping her arm around Maedhros' waist. "Where are your brothers?"
"Who can keep track?" Maedhros asked with a half shrug. "Here and there. Apart from the twins, the rest haven't regained as many memories as I, so they still think I'm rather odd. Then again, they could be remembering it perfectly, and I'm the one with the gap about that," he teased.
"Odd - yep, sounds familiar," Maglor said, biting back any comment about remembering Fingon. "I had to practise for ages until I became half as odd as you are naturally."
One of the good things about brothers was that you could tease them mercilessly, and they'd still beat up your enemies with you.
Maedhros gave his brother a lopsided grin. "You ask me, you've gone quite a bit beyond by this point. Which is fine by me. We'll just start calling you the odd one from now on."
Maglor shook his head, sending his un-elvish hair flying. "Well, you'll learn about that oddity soon enough. It's fun - mortal men have invented so many interesting new instruments! Who was the female company, though?"
She rested her head against Maedhros' shoulder, inhaling his scent. It was her son. Everything about him screamed that to her very spirit. "Yes, who was the lovely girl?" she asked with a motherly chuckle. She wasn't going to mention Fingon, since all of Maedhros' memories didn't seem to have returned. "And why, dear son, were you bringing her here?"
The redhead rolled his eyes in the universal gesture common to all individuals on the cusp of adulthood. "Just a friend, Nana. We met at the spring festival a few weeks ago. We'd just wanted a quiet place to talk."
"Which this, unfortunately, isn't now," Maglor smirked. "Full of mothers and brothers and other non-quiet things like harmonicas."
Nerdanel took the infant from Maedhros and gave him to Maglor.
Then did as she wanted to.
Maedhros was enveloped in an immediate hug, tight and close, his mother's nose buried in his hair.
He returns the hug eagerly, taking care not to squeeze her too hard. "I missed you, too, Nana," he says as he plants a kiss on the top of her head.
Maglor leaned his head against little Feahelce's soft baby hair, just watching for the moment.
Just happy to have his brother back, just happy to see his mother so very, very happy.
Everything else could come later.
Námo had gone, left to his Halls for the time being, while Nerdanel remained home. It was quiet at the moment, being just herself and Feaho. As she worked her embroidery, Feaho rolled about on the floor, playing with some of the toys his elder brothers once played with. Already his first tooth had come in, signaling to Nerdanel that her youngest son would be moving from his milk-diet to a diet of more solid food. She sighed as she watched him, content with playing by himself, seeing both herself and his father in his face.
She had hoped her other sons would have been in the home, but they hadn't returned to their mother's residence yet. Obviously her mother kept the house aired and cleaned, but there had been a distinct sense of it being unlived in for a prolonged time. Immediately, she had set about making the house a home again. Bread had been baked this morning, windows thrown open to the spring air, fresh flowers adorned various tables -- it was home. Home in a way Milliways could never be.
Softly, she began to sing, her bare foot tapping the air in time as her needle slid in and out of the fabric and her son laughed and amused himself.
For some reason, Maglor hadn't taken to wearing Elvish robes again; he looked still rather human, walking in in a tee-shirt and terribly scruffy trousers. He sat cross-legged on the carpet beside his little half-brother and took out his harmonica to play along with his mother's song for a while.
Stopping abruptly, he asked, "Have you heard of the others yet? I talked to the twins a bit last night; they were being a bit cryptic."
Nerdanel raised her eyes, smirking. "You would meet them looking as you do? Come now, Cáno, you look like Gorlim's true brother." She chuckled. "But no, I haven't heard word of them. All I know is that they have grown. Are near their maturity with some memory restored. That was all Lord Mandos would tell me."
"Bah, Maedhros will know me in any kind of get-up," Maglor shrugged. "I feel silly in silken robes with complicated braids in my hair now." He played a few bars on his harmonica again, and smiled at Feahelce. "The little one will be able to bite soon," he added. "And soon, I can start teaching him to play the recorder." Any elf would need a musical education, of course. As far as Maglor was concerned, that was the most fun about having kids.
Noises drifted in from the outer room -- footsteps, two sets. One heavy with boots, another more delicate and accompanied by a distinctly feminine giggle. Maedhros' voice joined the sounds a moment later when the door opened. "We can spend some time here. It's my mother's house and she's... right... here... with my brother. Well. Isn't this a surprise?" He kissed the young maiden on the cheek. "I'll come by later and see you?"
She only nodded and turned to leave the house with only a small wave to the other occupants.
Maglor stood and picked up Feahelce, ready to get himself out of the way again. If he wasn't yet remembered.
Her eyes moved from infant and grown son to Maedhros, her eyes going wide and embroidery falling to the floor. She didn't trust her legs, so she didn't stand. It was one thing to see her son as a child, without memory... it was another to see him on the cusp of manhood speaking of her as his mother.
"Nelyo..." she breathed with disbelief.
Maedhros smiled at her. "Suilad, Nana." He crossed the room and knelt beside her chair. "I wasn't expecting you to be here," he confessed, a little guiltily.
Her fingers came out to touch his face, marveling. It was her son. A son long lost to her... but he was him! "I... the Lord Mandos and I thought it was time your brother see his home... his brothers..."
The red-haired young man nodded and turned to the other two in the room. Seeing Feahelcë, Maedhros grinned and stood. "It seems not long ago I was barely larger than him. Such tricks with time the Lord Mandos plays! May I?" he asked, reaching his hands out.
Maglor nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Maedhros did at least recognise his mother again. Scruffy brothers and other unimportant things could come later, could they? He held out the baby to Maedhros, hoping the stranger wouldn't scare the little one. But then, the family resemblance with Nerdanel would be very reassuring.
Maedhros accepted the child carefully, rocking him to quiet the little complaints at being moved around so much. Then, quietly, "Yes, I recognize you as well, brother. Even though you scarely look like an Elf in that ridiculous outfit."
There he was, barely a hundred years old in that new body, and already being the big brother at him again! Maglor chuckled, and shook his head. "I've been used to not being an elf for many millennia," he said. "Robes and cloaks and complicated braids feel a bit silly to me now. You should be glad I'm not wearing my old leather jacket. I am glad to see you again as well, brother."
Now, at last, he dared to smile.
"If you can remember our language, I'd think you could remember how to braid your hair in the custom of your House," she teased Maglor as she stood up. Of all her sons, Maedhros the Tall had exceeded his mother's height. She walked over, looking down into Feaho's face. "You remember Feahelcë, Nelyo?" Her eyes shimmered, but tears didn't spill. "You fell asleep against my belly when I still carried him."
"Yes, I remember him," he replied. "I remember all of the time I spent in that strange tavern as a child. Not that I have spoken of it to many here, and there were some years when I thought it childhood illusion. But I recall it all with clarity."
"That strange tavern is where we have been living for quite a while now," Maglor said, "and where our littlest brother was born. I'm glad you know me again, even if you don't like my hair."
Grinning brightly now at his brother.
Maedhros reached out with his gloved right hand and tousled Maglor's hair. "Your braids were always sloppy anyway."
Nerdanel's heart swelled and now the tears fell. Feaho squirmed in Maedhros' arms, tugging at the hair just a little darker than his own, shoving the tress in his eager mouth. She laughed, wrapping her arm around Maedhros' waist. "Where are your brothers?"
"Who can keep track?" Maedhros asked with a half shrug. "Here and there. Apart from the twins, the rest haven't regained as many memories as I, so they still think I'm rather odd. Then again, they could be remembering it perfectly, and I'm the one with the gap about that," he teased.
"Odd - yep, sounds familiar," Maglor said, biting back any comment about remembering Fingon. "I had to practise for ages until I became half as odd as you are naturally."
One of the good things about brothers was that you could tease them mercilessly, and they'd still beat up your enemies with you.
Maedhros gave his brother a lopsided grin. "You ask me, you've gone quite a bit beyond by this point. Which is fine by me. We'll just start calling you the odd one from now on."
Maglor shook his head, sending his un-elvish hair flying. "Well, you'll learn about that oddity soon enough. It's fun - mortal men have invented so many interesting new instruments! Who was the female company, though?"
She rested her head against Maedhros' shoulder, inhaling his scent. It was her son. Everything about him screamed that to her very spirit. "Yes, who was the lovely girl?" she asked with a motherly chuckle. She wasn't going to mention Fingon, since all of Maedhros' memories didn't seem to have returned. "And why, dear son, were you bringing her here?"
The redhead rolled his eyes in the universal gesture common to all individuals on the cusp of adulthood. "Just a friend, Nana. We met at the spring festival a few weeks ago. We'd just wanted a quiet place to talk."
"Which this, unfortunately, isn't now," Maglor smirked. "Full of mothers and brothers and other non-quiet things like harmonicas."
Nerdanel took the infant from Maedhros and gave him to Maglor.
Then did as she wanted to.
Maedhros was enveloped in an immediate hug, tight and close, his mother's nose buried in his hair.
He returns the hug eagerly, taking care not to squeeze her too hard. "I missed you, too, Nana," he says as he plants a kiss on the top of her head.
Maglor leaned his head against little Feahelce's soft baby hair, just watching for the moment.
Just happy to have his brother back, just happy to see his mother so very, very happy.
Everything else could come later.