第 11 页

“Ultimate’s fallen off my schedule,” said Fingon, making a face. “I work too late in the evenings now.”

“Heinous,” said Aegnor. “I never pegged you for the 60 hour work week, man.”

“Neither did I,” said Fingon, with a sigh.

Aegnor raised his eyebrows as he perused the scene. “Big party, huh?”

Fingon shrugged. “It’s mostly just old friends. Irissë’s having a big enough party by herself.” Aredhel saluted from the floor. “Did you bring your siblings?”

Aegnor gestured behind him. “Ingoldo’s parking. And Artanis is already in the kitchen.”

Maglor jumped as Galadriel materialized behind him, holding an old green bottle. “Is this whiskey available for general consumption, Makalaurë?”

“I suppose so,” said Maglor. “I drank the first half while I was composing my rock opera, but given how that turned out, I’ve sort of avoided it ever since…”

“Perfect,” said Galadriel, and poured two glasses. “I’ve got your drink, Aiko.”

“Cheers!” Aegnor slung an arm around Fingon’s shoulders. “Have some whiskey with me, bro. You clearly need something strong. Have you shrunk?”

Fingon made an indignant noise as Aegnor dragged him across the room. “Excuse me?”

“I think you’ve gotten shorter. And definitely scrawnier. Too long in an office, man…”

“I could take you any time, you seven foot freak, bring it.”

“Is Aikanáro seeing anyone these days?” Maglor asked Galadriel, watching her sip her whiskey. “Wasn’t he dating – ”

“Mmm,” said Galadriel, and shook her head. “It’s a long story. Don’t ask him about it.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Ask Findaráto. He’s got the scoop. But essentially, my brothers are all idiots when it comes to women.”

“Ah,” said Maglor, and studied Aegnor thoughtfully.

Galadriel climbed onto a stool and held out her arms. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders, and glowed in the fluorescent light of the kitchen. She wobbled slightly, but her voice was clear.

“Friends, family, countrymen - it is time for a drinking game.”

“Beer-pong!” shouted Fingon.

She pointed at him. “No.”

“Flip-cup!” called Aredhel, still on the floor with her bottle of wine.

“Rejected.”

“The Nolofinwions are being discriminated against,” said Fingon. “I cry foul.”

“Just tell us what we’re playing, little sister,” said Aegnor, and lobbed an empty red cup at her. “Stop grandstanding.”

Galadriel lifted her chin and smiled, pulling a deck of cards from her back pocket. “King’s Cup, you reprobates. Circle up.”

As everyone gathered around the coffee table and Galadriel spread the cards face down around a can of PBR, Aegnor leaned close to Fingon. “Where’s Tyelko? This seems like his scene.”

Fingon shrugged. “I dunno. He hasn’t been around much lately. You could ask Irissë, she might know more.”

“I know nothing,” said Aredhel stoically, and pulled herself over to the coffee table. “I am such a good friend, guys. I tell no secrets.”

Fingon glowered at her. “That is such a lie. What about the time you told everyone about what happened to me in the garage?”

“That’s different.” Aredhel took another drink. “You’re not my friend. You’re my brother. Secrets between us mean nothing, dude.”

“In that case,” said Fingon. “I think everyone would be interested to know about the time I walked in on you with a - ”

Aredhel sprang to her feet with surprising agility considering more than half the bottle of wine was gone, and slapped her hand over his mouth.

Fingon looked pained. “Is this tonight’s theme, or something?” he asked, muffled. “Censorship. For fuck’s sake.”

“Keep your mouth shut and no one gets hurt,” said Aredhel, in his ear, and he kicked at her shins until she released him.

“I am feeling seriously oppressed,” he said, pulling a tragic expression onto his face that lasted only until Maedhros wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed his neck. “…but I think I’ll survive.”

“That’s better,” murmured Maedhros, and pulled him around for a long kiss.

“Whoo!” exclaimed Aegnor. “Get some.”

“Get a room,” said Aredhel, and collapsed back to the floor. “We playing or what?”

* * *

Some time later, there were wide gaps in the circle of cards on the coffee table, and almost everyone was gathered around with a drink. Maglor and Haleth were sitting on the couch together, absorbed in conversation. Caranthir was watching them from the corner of his eye.

Fingon leaned forward, watching Finrod intently. “This is very important, Ingoldo. Don’t you fuck this up.”

Finrod twiddled the King of Hearts between his fingers absently. “Hum.”

“Booo,” said Aredhel, hanging off Caranthir’s shoulder. “Make a rule. Hurry it up. We’re getting sober here.”

“And if you say ‘little green man’, I’ll kill you,” said Aegnor, dropping his sunglasses over his eyes.

“Hmm.”

Maedhros winced and twisted his back. “Must we sit on the floor? It’s so uncomfortable.”

“Aw,” said Fingon, tilting over to hook his chin over Maedhros’ shoulder. “It’s tough getting old, isn’t it, baby?”

“Thirty’s when it starts going downhill,” said Aegnor.

“I’m not thirty.” Maedhros looked put out. “I’m not even twenty-nine.”

“You’re ancient, my darling, just accept it,” said Fingon, and kissed him.

“But we will all be ancient if Findaráto doesn’t fuckin’ make a rule already,” said Aegnor, and kicked at his brother from across the circle. “GO.”

Finrod smiled angelically. “You want a rule? Fine. No swearing.” He slid the card under the tab of the central beer as the circle went silent around him.

“Are you fucking seri – ”

“Drink,” said Finrod, tapping his finger against Aredhel’s wine bottle, and she glared at him.

“You are such an asshole, man,” began Aegnor, and Finrod wagged a finger.

“Drink, little brother.”

“Fuck,” said Aegnor, and drank twice.

-

Maedhros drew the Jack of Spades.

“What’s that, ‘Never Have I Ever’?”

“Yes. And no lying,” said Galadriel. “I’ll know, don’t think I won’t.”

Everyone held up three fingers, even Maglor and Haleth having joined the circle at this point.

“Okay,” said Maedhros, and put his head to the side, thinking. “Never have I ever…gotten drunk on an airplane.”

“Boring,” said Aegnor, as he put a finger down. “C’mon, say something juicy.”

“Maybe I’ve done all the juicy things,” said Maedhros coolly.

“Doubtful.”

“You say that,” said Caranthir, “but you don’t have a room under his.”

“Moving on,” said Galadriel. “Your turn, Irissë.”

“Um,” said Aredhel, who was having rather a difficult time sitting upright, and dragged herself up on Caranthir’s shoulder. “Never have I ever – um. No, I’ve done that. Never have I ever had – nope. Never have I ever been – okay, that one time. Wait! Okay, here it is. Never have I ever been fucked in the ass.” She grinned broadly. “Now y’all put your fingers down.”

“Too easy,” said Fingon in a bored voice, as he put a finger down. “Cheap shot. Also, you swore twice, drink you fu – person. Hang on, Artanis, was that a finger you just put down?”

“Just use lots of lube,” said Galadriel, as Finrod and Aegnor exchanged horrified looks. “It’s good stuff, Irissë, don’t rule it out.”

“Noted,” said Aredhel, looking delighted.

“Moving on,” said Aegnor loudly. “Never have I ever been walked in on by a sibling.”

There was a swell of laughter as Maglor, Maedhros, and Caranthir all simultaneously put a finger down.

“You try having six younger brothers and not getting walked in on,” said Maedhros.

“You try having a brother with an affinity for lock picks and not getting walked in on,” said Maglor, a look of remembered horror on his face.

“Where is Curvo?” asked Aegnor, as everyone laughed.

“Upstairs,” said Maedhros. “Parties aren’t really his thing.”

“We should get him,” said Aegnor enthusiastically. “I haven’t seen that kid in ages.”

“Good luck,” said Caranthir. “Maybe Tyelko could convince him to come down, but no one else could.”

“We could just invade and drag him bodily down here,” said Aegnor, but Maedhros and Caranthir shook their heads together.

“That would be a bad idea.”

“Anyway,” said Maglor. “I believe it’s my turn.” He thought a moment. “Never have I ever listened to Taylor Swift.”

“Oh my god, you’re the worst.”

“Also, probably lying.”

“Or else just a fuckin’ snob.”

“DRINK.”

“I’m out,” said Fingon, lowering his hand. “Where’s my drink?”

* * *

“So much for a low-key party,” said Maedhros quietly, scanning the room. Bodies were spread over the floor, the couch, even the coffee table.

“I know,” said Fingon, yawning, and draping himself over Maedhros. “Disgusting drunks, the lot of them. Take me to bed.”

“I’m not carrying you.”

“You don’t love me.”

Maedhros nuzzled against Fingon’s ear. “Meet me upstairs in bed and you’ll see just how much I don’t love you.”

Fingon grinned and wrapped his arms around Maedhros’ neck for a clinging kiss. “You better believe I’ll be there. But,” he glanced over his shoulder. “…I should go check on my post-bottle-of-wine sister.”

“Probably,” agreed Maedhros. He kissed Fingon once more and released him. “I’ll meet you upstairs.”

Fingon stepped over the sleeping forms on the living room floor, weaving a little as he tried not to trip over Aegnor’s long body. On the couch, Caranthir had laid a light arm across Haleth’s waist, and she was tucked against his side, fast asleep. Galadriel and Finrod had claimed chairs on either side of the room and were curled like cats in their respective armchairs.

Fingon slipped down the dark hallway to the bathroom. “Ireth? How you doing in here, do you need some water? Maybe some toast... Ireth?” He pushed open the door and frowned. The bathroom was empty.

-

He finally found Aredhel upstairs, sprawled across Celegorm’s bed in his dark room. “Hey. I didn’t know where you’d gone.”

“ ‘m here.”

Fingon sat on the bed beside her and stroked a hand over her hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I drank a bottle of wine and then puked a bottle of wine,” said Aredhel, into the pillow.

“Sounds about right. I brought you some water.”

“Mph.”

“I’m not leaving until you drink it.” Fingon rubbed lightly at Aredhel’s neck and laid the cool glass against her shoulder. “C’mon.”

“Fine.” She rolled over, bleary-eyed, and he helped her tip the glass against her lips. Most of the water rolled down her neck, but she just laid back, eyes closed, and pushed the glass away when she was done.

Fingon set it on the bedside table. “I’m gonna fill it back up and leave it here for you, okay?”

“Mmk.”

Fingon smiled and stretched out beside her. “I guess this is payback for all those times you took care of me when I came back wasted junior year.”

Aredhel groaned. “Drunk, heartbroken Findekáno was the worst.”

“At least you’re not heartbroken.”

“Not yet.” She rolled over and tucked her face against his shoulder.

He tried to look at her, even as she buried her face against his neck. “What do you mean?”

“I think Elenwë’s going to break up with me.”

“What?” Fingon rolled over too, so they were facing each other. “I thought you two were going strong. And you and Turno have even made up and every- ”

“Of course she’s going to break up with me,” whispered Aredhel. “She’s so beautiful, and smart, and she dances, Finno, did you know? And I’m just some fuck-up, I barely graduated, I don’t even have a real job… Why is she even with me?”

“Irissë. She loves you.”

“Why?”

Fingon smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind Aredhel’s ear. “Don’t ask me. You’re the worst.” But Aredhel didn’t smile. “Oh, come on. You two are doing so well. I haven’t seen anything that – ”

“He thought so too, though,” whispered Aredhel. “He was so happy again, he was in love, and then…and then it turned out…he’d been lied to all that time…”

“What?” Fingon pushed himself up on one elbow and frowned down at her. “Who are you talking about?”

“Tyelko,” said Aredhel, and threw an arm over her eyes. “He never saw it coming, and neither will I…”

“Is she all right?” Maedhros was standing in the doorway, backlit by the light from the hall.

“Yes,” said Fingon, still staring down at his sister. “Yeah, she just needs to sleep it off.” He pulled the blankets over Aredhel, padded down the hall to refill the water glass, and left it within her reach. “Just call out if you need anything, okay?”

“ ‘m sorry, Finno,” mumbled Aredhel, curling into the blankets. “ ‘m sorry he left you. You didn’t deserve that, y’re too good. But at least he came back t’you, right? I dunno…I dunno if Tyelko will ever get him back…”

“What’s she saying?” asked Maedhros quietly, coming up behind Fingon, but Fingon just shook his head as Aredhel wrapped an arm around the pillow.

“Just rambling,” he said, and turned into Maedhros’ arms. “Let’s go to bed.”

A night of minimal drama

Chapter Summary

In which Nerdanel has an art show, Fëanor has a bunch of vocal unfriends, and Celegorm has a surprise.

Maedhros poked his head into his parents’ room. “Hello? Sorry we’re late.”

Nerdanel emerged from the bathroom wearing a long blue gown, her hair piled on top of her head, her feet still bare. “Where the hell are my shoes? Fëanaro, I can’t find anything in here – oh! Maitimo!” Her eyes lit up when she saw her son, and she embraced Maedhros distractedly. “I’m so glad you’re here. Is everyone dressed?” She ducked to look under the bed and seized a pair of silver heels with a cry of triumph.

“Yes, we’re all ready to go.” Maedhros held out his arm for her to lean on as she tugged on her shoe. “Even Ambarussa.”

“Bless you. Look, I think you should go ahead of us, and enter around the back of the gallery – take the kids, would you?”

Maedhros frowned as Nerdanel slipped on her other shoe. “Why around the back?”

Fëanor entered the room, elegant in his dark suit, adjusting his cufflinks. “Because there are protestors out front, and your mother thinks they’ll distress the boys.”

“And you think they won’t?” Nerdanel straightened up. “You try walking past a bunch of signs calling your father a murderer and see how you feel.”

“I walk past signs calling me a murderer on a near daily basis,” said Fëanor coolly. “It hasn’t yet affected me adversely."

“You’re not a fifteen year old boy,” said Nerdanel. “Though you do act like one at times. Humor me, Fëanaro.”

“As you wish,” said Fëanor, turning away. “You’re just giving them what they want.”

“We want to go in with you,” said Maedhros quietly to his mother. “We want to be at your side, especially if – ”

“Oh, Maitimo.” Nerdanel squeezed his hand. “That’s a kind thought, but really, I’d feel better if you entered separately from us. We’ll meet you inside and I’ll more than welcome you at my side then.” She smiled a little wanly. “I’ll need someone’s arm to clutch if Aulë approaches me to discuss my work.”

“Isn’t that what father’s for?” asked Maedhros, smiling.