Second Childhood by HannaGoldworthy

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Chapter 4

Some worldbuilding here, to set the stage for the next chapter.  A little hint of Elves in Space in the background, nothing that will fill a bingo card.  And despite the allusions to A Hunt in Nan Elmoth, this story is not nearly in the same universe.

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Spring planting would go ahead the next day, bright and early in the morning as it always was.  Curvo did not object.  In fact, he rose before even the rooster crowed in order to prepare breakfast.  Maedhros heard him because he hadn’t slept, though he did not tell Curvo that, and he doubted the kid would notice.  He could go for years without proper sleep.

 

Pull yourself together, he berated himself as he listened to those quiet footsteps, so unlike Fëanáro or Curvo at this time of the day.  Narvi and Celebrimbor are at the point that they don’t even notice anymore, and Narvi can go six hundred years out of the Halls. You’ve been doing this almost as long as they have.

 

He waited to see if his melodramatic heart would listen for once.  It didn’t.  No surprise, but it was worth a try.

 

By the time he had finished dressing, there was a knock at the door.  Probably Celegorm at this hour.  As Curvo hurried to answer the door, the mean old black rooster crowed and clucked challengingly at the visitor.  Said visitor crowed and clucked back with more vigor.  Definitely Celegorm – I’ve warned him about fighting the chickens.

 

He heard the door open, and Celegorm almost immediately opined in Quenya, “What the shit did you do to your hair?”

 

“Language,” Curvo hissed in a whisper, “and what did you do to yours?  Last I checked you’re not a natural silver.”

 

“Oh that,” came a third voice – Amrod, which meant Amras was somewhere nearby, spraining his eye muscles.  “When he came back, he went straight to Galadriel and asked her if she’d try and drown him again.  She complied a little too happily, and scared him fair again.”

 

“Beauty is pain, little brother.  And I don’t have to touch up my roots.”

 

“Who’s Galadriel, again?”

 

“Guys, we really need to get going if we want to get there by sundown,” and there was Amras, just like clockwork.

 

“Right, right…so, we’re going hunting down in Avathar.”  And there it was: the trio’s usual attempt at a distraction.  Curufin must have got ahold of them quickly this time.

“The spiders are particularly juicy this time of year.”

 

“Don’t say that, we want him to come with us!”

 

“That’s why it needs to sound exciting!”

 

“Spiders?” Curvo said, seeming somewhat overwhelmed by the brother’s enthusiasm.  “But I thought they’d be gone by now, when Ungoliant left.”

 

“You’d think that, wouldn’t you?  And yet we can’t seem to rid the land of them permanently, and they constantly harass the Sindar who settled down there.”

 

“The bright side is that they taste amazing boiled with butter and salt.”

 

“Amrod!  I told you not to disgust the boy!”

 

“I’m only telling the truth!  And you like it just as much as I do!”

 

“Keep it down,” Amras hissed, “or you’ll wake the warden.”

 

Maedhros chose that moment to descend the last stair; an older brother’s theatricality still had some use.  “Oh, the warden is awake, not that anyone was trying to aide his rest.”

 

Curvo looked wounded, and Amras leaned over Celegorm’s shoulder in the doorway to shoot Maedhros the same hurt look.  “I was trying,” they both said at the same time, then broke off and blinked at each other.

 

He pressed his advantage in the brief silence.  “Curvo can go with you if he wants, but I believe I’ll stay.  There’s work to be done here, and the last time I went to Avathar, your catch was greatly diminished.”

 

“Yes, but that was a full Age ago,” Amrod reasoned, leaning in over Celegorm’s other shoulder.  “And it was more our fault than yours.  You’d amassed a reputation the time before that, and came back only two centuries later.  This time, they should have just about forgotten you.”

 

Celegorm made a face; bless him, he was always bluntly honest.  “They still have the folk songs.  But really, they should think you’re only a fairy tale by now.”

 

There was a grim satisfaction to take in the fact that he had not lost his touch, but Maedhros didn’t think he could risk getting out of his routine without losing his mind, not this time.  And Amras had recently been studying psychiatry with Nienna, and had a concerned gleam in his eyes that proved he wanted to help his brother tackle some demons.  There were some things, however, which Maedhros needed to do alone.

 

“Perhaps next time, then,” he said in compromise.  “Although, like I said, Curvo can go if he wants.”

 

A thoughtful look remained on the lad’s face, and he smiled.  “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’d kill more spiders just working in the gardens here.”

 

Amras looked about ready to argue the point, but Amrod laid a hand on his shoulder to quiet him, and Celegorm nodded congenially.  “Very well; we’ll drop by on our way back,” the silver-haired hunter acquiesced.

 

“Try not to have too much fun without us!”

 

In one last-ditch effort to get him to come along, Amras smiled a little too cheerfully.  “We’ll tell Fingon you said hello!”

 

“You do that,” Maedhros smiled, unmoved.  “Happy hunting!”

 

Curvo watched as they tramped back up the path to where their horses were tethered, and waved one last goodbye at the window.  When he turned to the table, breakfast was finished, and Maedhros had settled into his chair.

 

“You could have gone with them, you know,” the boy said, taking the seat next to him.  “Fingon is Findekáno, right?  Maybe it would be good for you to be with your best friend.”

 

Maedhros shook his head.  “I thought as you did, once.  But Fingon is more affected by this than I am.  He and Sarnai grew to be fast friends while they were waiting for me to return from Middle-Earth, and he was very insulted that I seemed to treat her departures like they were no great issue.”

 

Curvo raised his eyebrows.  “You and Findekáno had a falling out?”

 

“Yes, a rather silly one at that.  He was grieving, and I was doing my best not to grieve because there’s really no point.  He wanted to console me, I wanted to distract him, and we got in a shouting match over what was best for each other and didn’t speak for decades.”

 

“You.  And Findekáno.  Had an argument.”

 

Maedhros had to laugh; Curvo looked so scandalized.  “And our wives had to drag us back by our ears to reconcile.  Stars, that happened eons ago.  When was that?  I think it was right before Caranthir’s twins were born…four or five thousand years.  How the time flies, here.”

 

“Caranthir has twins?”  There was a light in Curvo’s eyes that was pure Fëanáro; perhaps the boy was growing to remember.  “Tell me about them.  He’s off world, and I haven’t seen him or them.”

 

“Ah, well, Héra is an engineer in Varda’s star-travel division, and Harma is an explorer.  In fact, I think I have some letters from them and from Moryo.  Remind me to read them to you tonight.”