You're going out like that? by Rocky41_7

You're going out like that?

Read You're going out like that?

It wasn’t often they were all together anymore, and when they were—as then—it was usually owing to the summons of Nelyo. Forget whatever the so-called high king of the Noldor was demanding—they came because Nelyo called, and for no other reason. Maglor took his time in front of the vanity before traipsing downstairs for breakfast. Celegorm was at the table with coffee and a missive from Himlad, while Maedhros was in the kitchen adjacent and Caranthir picked over an anemic pear a few seats away from Celegorm.

            “Good morning, everyone,” Maglor announced his arrival, unable to enter a room otherwise. Caranthir looked up and, stricken, simply said “NO.” Subsequently Celegorm also glanced up and choked on a sip of coffee.

            “Morgoth’s fucking balls Kano, you have to warn us before you come in looking like that,” he said. Maglor frowned petulently and Maedhros emerged at the usual sound of commotion from a gathering of his brothers. For a moment he only stared and blinked, and then he said:

            “I thought Atarinkë said he would be late.”

            “Ha-ha,” Maglor said, attempting to be dry, but sounding a great deal more like he was on the verge of storming out. “You should all run a family comedy troupe.” He took a seat at the table and helped himself to the coffee.

            “You really should warn us, Kano,” Caranthir said with a troubled frown as the sound of footsteps sounded through the kitchen.

            “Hey, Nelyo, can we—fuck,” said Amrod, coming to a dead halt in the kitchen doorway. “I thought necromancy was frowned upon around here.”

            Amras just laughed, doubling over until he wheezed.

            “Hey, Atya—sorry, Kano—didn’t hear you get in last night,” he choked. Maglor sat primly at the table looking more and more like that might be a kinslaying gleam entering his eye.

            “You’re all so very funny,” he said, and perhaps the razor’s edge in his voice was incidental, or perhaps it was a reminder.

            “Don’t worry, Kano,” said Maedhros, waving a hand as he turned back towards the kitchen. “I’m sure Ammë would find it charming.” For that, Maglor was going to write another song about Maedhros and teach it to his troops. There were plenty of things that rhymed with “ass.”

            As the twins helped themselves to food and drink and Maglor wrapped his hands around a mug of coffee, the sound of familiar familial bickering sounded outside the door.

            “—told you if we had taken the longer route we wouldn’t have had to ford the river—”

            “It was still not as long as taking your route—”

            The door flung open to admit Curufin, his wife, and a deathly-bored looking Celebrimbor, who brightened at once at the sight of his uncles.

            “It’s about time you made it,” Celegorm opined. “Here I began to think you’d decided to take a scenic diversion through Nan Dungortheb on the way.”

            “Don’t be stu—” Curufin looked up from stomping the ice off his boots, caught sight of Maglor, and actually took a step backwards with a sharp intake of breath, white visible all around his dark irises. He exchanged a hasty glance with his wife.

            “Oh!” said Celebrimbor in surprise. “Makalaurë, you look so much like grandfather! I remember he used to wear his hair that way!”

            Maglor exhaled long and slow and reached up, yanking his hair down from the topknot he had carefully arranged it in that morning.

            “You know, I had almost forgotten,” he said. Another thing he had almost forgotten: what a waste of time it was to try anything artistic in this wretched family.

---

Chapter End Notes

On tumblr