第 115 页

“Cúthalion,” said Caranthir. “That's the other one?”

“Yes,” said Curufin. “What kind of shape is he in? Did Oromë say he’s alive?”

“He said ‘For now’,” said Celegorm, and grabbed his coat.

Dare to wake up

Chapter Summary

Unexpected news and unexpected visitors abound.

Chapter Notes

0. Warnings: Brief below waist hanky-panky occurs.

To: "Irissë" <ar-feiniel@gmail.com>"

From: "Nolofinwë" <fingolfin@finwecorp.com>

Subject: re: fine time to take a business trip, pops

Dear Irissë,

It was a treat seeing you this past weekend and getting to check out your new place. You and Elenwë have a lovely spot, and I can’t tell you how happy we are that you’ve found such a wonderful partner and made such a wonderful home together. (Though to be fair, it would be more accurate to say your brother found her…) (ha-ha) (Your mother says that people use emoticons to make it clear something was a joke, but I can’t find the ‘emoticon’ button on my new ipad. You’ll have to show me where it is the next time you come by. Take my word for it that that was a joke! We’re really glad things aren’t awkward between you and Turukáno anymore.)

I was glad to be able to respond in person to your sweet and heartfelt email, but I’m not going to pass up on the chance to continue a correspondence with my favorite daughter! Maybe we can be pen-pals, if that’s still a thing. E-pals? It might make sense, especially seeing as I might be on the road a lot soon, and I know you don’t like phone calls.

I hope when we talked I made clear how entirely I support you and your work on sobriety and mental health, and anything I can help with, please let me know. I’m really proud of you. By the way, however much you self-deprecate, I’ve never thought of you as a ‘mess.’ The state of your room when you were child notwithstanding, you’ve always been far less of a mess than you give yourself credit for. And as messy as it gets, I’m here for you. I know the same is true of your mom and brothers.

Speaking of your brothers: I know it’s been many years since we had to send you and Turno to track down a wayward Findekáno in the dorms, but I’m starting to think we might have to enlist your services once again – this time to locate Arko. He hasn’t responded to any of our texts or calls or emails trying to coordinate Passover this year. His silence WOULD be cause for concern but we know he’s alive since he’s merrily posting on Facebook every day. Apparently. He won’t accept my friend request so I can’t actually see his page, but Lalwen said he uploaded pictures on Tuesday, and when Findekáno was over the other night he showed us a ‘vine’ (just a short video, apparently? I don’t know why it needs a special name) that Arakáno shared from a fraternity event. It’s amazing how many kegstands can fit into 6 seconds. Modern technology, eh? Anyway. It's like the incident with the blizzard when he was 16 all over again, except this time he's not unreachable because he's driven mom's car into a snowbank, he's just being a Terrible Son. If he doesn’t respond to my latest text by tomorrow, I’m going to ask you to hunt him down and glue his fingers to his phone until he gets back to me.

Ha-ha.

Give my best to Elenwë, and if you manage to retrieve my glasses from that small dark terror you assure me was a cat, I’d much appreciate it! Until then, I am making do with a spare pair and a lot of squinting.

Take care of yourself and stay in touch.

Love,

Dad

PS Keep the news I told you under your hat until the end of the week! Trying to keep it from getting ‘leaked’ ;)

PPS Mom showed me how to make emoticons without a button.

* * *

“Mae! Are you home?” There was a clatter in the entryway as Fingon came in, and Maedhros extricated himself from the closet where he’d been rummaging around.

“I’m in the office, but I’m about to turn around and leave again,” he called, tripping over a pile of old wrapping paper and a defunct clock radio. “I could have sworn we had the supplies on hand for this project I’m planning with my students, but all but four of the colored pencils are gone. Seriously, has someone been eating them? Where do they go? Anyway, if the car has gas in the tank I’ll probably just take it and run downtown.” He broke off as he came into the hallway and saw Fingon in the living room. Fingon was beaming as he unwound the blue and white scarf from around his neck and kicked off his shoes.

Maedhros eyed him curiously. “You look happy. Good day at work?”

“I have news.”

Maedhros raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Can it wait until I get back from Staples?”

“Nope.”

Fingon was practically vibrating with contained excitement, and Maedhros put down the half empty box of colored pencils he’d been holding. He pulled Fingon down to sit on the couch and they faced each other, Maedhros folding his legs up in front of him while Fingon leaned forward eagerly on his knees.

“What do you want to tell me?”

“My dad’s going to making a big announcement at the end of this week,” said Fingon, in a rush.

“Oh no, who’s – ” Maedhros started to ask, and then hesitated. “Wow, why was my first instinct that someone was pregnant?”

“Right, that’s the only thing a big announcement could be. That my dad would be announcing, no less.”

“Sorry, I was being stupid. So what is – ”

“If it will put your mind at ease, I can tell you it’s highly unlikely that I’m pregnant, Mae.”

“Obviously, I just – ”

“To start with, I’ve been on top a lot lately. And I don’t think either of us is ovulating.”

“Stop. Tell me what your father’s going to announce!”

“He’s going to run for office,” said Fingon, and his eyes were shining with excitement. “He’s going into state politics.”

“What?” Maedhros gaped. “Oh my god, really? That’s incredible.”

“I know! I always said he’d be good at this.”

Memories of how Fëanor had spoken of running office back before the scandal, back before he lost the company, crossed Maedhros’ mind in a brief, bitter moment. Then he shoved them aside. “Of course he will be. Nolofinwë is a born leader, and he can really make a difference in the statehouse. The unions like him too, and that's big. But what does that mean for the company? Is he not going to be president anymore?”

“He’ll still be president.” Fingon shrugged. “But he’ll be cutting way back during the campaign of course, and if he gets elected, then he'll probably take a leave of absence or something. In the meantime, he’ll still be on the board and so on, but his active role will be way down. It happens all the time with businessmen going into politics and minimizing their company work.”

“So who’s going to close the gap and fill in where he left off?” Maedhros looked at Fingon in dawning realization. “Finno…are you taking over the company?”

“What?” Fingon burst out laughing. “Hell no. Findis is going to take over as chief executive, she already more than half runs the place. Me? That’s a laugh, buddy, good one.”

“But – ” A voice, very much like Curufin’s, echoed in Maedhros’ mind: How could you throw away that kind of opportunity? Horrified at his hypocrisy, Maedhros clamped his lips shut.

“But you’re right on one thing,” said Fingon, either not noticing or choosing to ignore his abruptness. “You’re right that I’m going to be transitioning to a new position.”

“You are?”

“Dramatically." Fingon's eyes were fixed on Maedhros, watching him closely. "I handed in my two weeks notice today. I’m quitting Finwë Corp.”

“What?” Maedhros stared at him, convinced he'd misheard. I thought you would never quit, no matter how much you hated it. I’m the quitter, not you. "You're doing what?"

“I’m quitting Finwë Corp,” Fingon repeated. “No more Vice President in charge of soothing chapped asses, or whatever my damn title is these days. I’m going into another kind of family business.”

Maedhros smiled, despite his shock. “ ‘Family business’ sounds ominous. Are you about to link up to some organized crime?”

“Close. I’m going to be running my father’s campaign.” Fingon sat back, the joy and excitement lighting his face mixing in equal parts with apprehension as he waited for Maedhros' reaction.

“Oh my god. Findekáno – ” Maedhros couldn’t figure out what to say, so he just grabbed Fingon’s hand and held it tightly. “I can’t believe this.”

Fingon looked sideways at him. “Good disbelief, or bad?”

“Good,” said Maedhros emphatically. “How do you feel? Are you ready for this?”

Fingon shrugged. “Honestly? More ready than I was for corporate life. I did that grassroots organizing in college, and I had that internship the summer after I graduated, and this is what I wanted to do before y- Well, before everything changed and I went into Grandfather's business instead. But now – I’m going to run a campaign, Maitimo! I’m going to be out in the field, I’m going to be taking action, and I’m going to have a chance to make a difference. I’ve always wanted to be there for my dad, and I want to be his right hand as much as I can be, but finally I can do it in pursuit of something I care about! Something I’m good at! I can get out there and fight.”

Maedhros broke into a true smile. “Congratulations.” He pulled Fingon forward into his lap, and Fingon went into his arms eagerly. “I’m so proud of you, Finno.”

“Does this mean we have your vote?” Fingon asked teasingly, when they broke apart.

"Hum." Maedhros paused in the middle of nuzzling at Fingon’s neck. “I don’t know, what’s your father’s position on standardized testing? Is he a proponent of the MCAS? Because I have to say – ”

“Oh my god, you stereotype. I’ll get you an answer on that from the press office,” said Fingon. “Later.” He was already beginning to unbuckle Maedhros’ belt, and Maedhros chuckled as Fingon pushed him back against the arm of the couch.

“I can’t wait for you to be politically powerful,” he murmured, slipping his hands below Fingon’s waistband. “Then I can discover how corruptible you are.”

“I’m incorruptible, baby,” said Fingon, undoing Maedhros’ pants with purpose. “I’ve already got everything I could ask for, what are you gonna tempt me with?”

“I’m sure I can think of something,” said Maedhros, pressing his palm against the bulge between Fingon’s legs. Fingon stopped talking after that, his attention taken as he gasped into Maedhros’ shoulder, and Maedhros kept on in a low voice, to see how far he could get him.

“It’s time for me to get you back for all that attempted teacher role play,” he murmured, wrapping his hands around Fingon’s hips and pulling him close. “How would you like it if I snuck into the campaign offices and got on my knees under your desk? Do you think you’d be able to keep your composure, issuing field orders to your staff as I kneel out of sight and – ”

“Maitimo.”

“Findekáno,” Maedhros whispered into Fingon’s ear, and Fingon moaned, shuddering as Maedhros’ hands tightened on his ass and he pressed forward, rubbing himself against Maedhros’ stomach.

“You bastard. I’m already getting close…”

“Good,” said Maedhros, and then laughed softly as Fingon began to thrust against him. “Would now be a bad time to make a political scandal joke about stains on clothing?”

“Oh shut up, just push your shirt up – Oh, yeah, Mae, like that.” Fingon buried his face in Maedhros’ neck and shook all over, his fingers tight in Maedhros’ shirt, dragging it up to get at bare skin. “Oh god oh god oh god.”

Maedhros groaned, his head dropping back against the arm of the couch as Fingon panted against him, shuddering. “Jesus, you look so hot when you c– ”

The door burst open, and four people came in, all talking at once.

Maedhros lurched upright, hastily pulling his shirt down over his bare stomach.

Fingon, still on top of him, swore loudly. He sat back on his heels, breathing heavily, and swiftly tucked himself back into his pants. “What the bleeding fuck – ”

“I hope it’s not bleeding,” said Curufin, marching in and dropping a bag on the counter. “That’s generally a sign you’re doing something wrong.”

Maedhros scrambled up as he swiftly buttoned his own pants, and Fingon dropped back on the couch, covering his face with his hands and groaning. “This has to be some sort of sick fever dream. Are you kidding me with this timing?”

“No dream, I’m afraid. But nice wet spot, Mae,” said Celegorm, grinning as he looked pointedly at the front of Maedhros’ shirt. “Your own work, or Findekáno’s?”

Maedhros’ ears turned red. “Excuse me,” he growled, and strode out of the room, trying to angle himself away from his brothers.

Fingon adjusted himself covertly before standing up, arms folded. “What the hell are you all doing here? Were you raised in a barn or didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s general courtesy to knock?”

“I have a key,” said Maglor, who was bringing up the rear with his arms laden with another bag and several pillows. He waved it apologetically. “Sorry! I didn’t think that you’d both even be home.”

“Answer the first part of my question, Makalaurë.”

“Curvo broke the house,” said Caranthir, dropping his bags onto the floor as well and wandering over to the fridge. Fingon looked askance at the bags and started drumming his fingers on his arm.

“Tyelko broke the ceiling,” Curufin corrected, perching himself on a stool and examining a bowl of fruit on the counter critically.

“He broke the ceiling on your orders.”

“He doesn’t give me orders,” protested Celegorm, throwing himself down on the couch and making a face as he pulled Maedhros’ belt out from under him. “Stop making it sound like he’s my commanding officer or something.”

“If the shoe fits…”

Curufin smirked and picked the price sticker off an apple. “I only ordered – sorry, asked – that he go into the attic, not that he break it, but sometimes life throws us uncontrollables, and Tyelko is the most effective uncontrollable I’ve ever met. Anyway, the ceiling was an accident, but you should all be thanking me for sparing you from living in a house with mold in the walls. Have you looked up what mold toxicity exposure looks like? You’re welcome for me making the discovery before we all came down with chronic respiratory issues, and you’re welcome for hiring the contractor to get rid of it.”

Caranthir snorted violently from the vicinity of the fridge. “We should thank you? I should slap you in the face with my bank statement, you vulture. If you’d just let us tell dad, he would be footing the bill instead of us.”

Curufin started to peel the skin off the apple. “There was no need for him to know.”

Caranthir kicked at the molding under the cabinets. “It’s just classic that after years of hearing how perfect our baby brother is, whenever flawless Atarinkë actually makes a mistake we have to take it on ourselves to hide it from – ”

“Yo, least favorite cousins,” said Fingon loudly, and they all looked over at him in mild surprise. “You may have all forgotten my existence, but I have not forgotten yours. Why did you think it was okay to come invade our house without asking first?”