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The taller of the two was sitting with her back propped against the wall, her long legs stretched out on the bench as she ran one hand repeatedly through her short, spiky hair and gestured expressively with the other. The other woman, of more solid build and with her long hair coiled into heavy braids at the back of her head, wore a tank top that was cut to reveal arms corded with muscle and collarbones adorned with an ink-black dragon. She was listening to her friend regale her with a look of amusement on her handsome face, and drinking deeply from her tankard.

“ – but I finally convinced her that a cell phone picture was acceptable, and to at least take a look at the profile I had mocked up for her.”

Telchar laughed as Lalwen kicked her booted feet up in emphasis, and refreshed both their drinks from the growler sitting on the table between them. “What did she say then?”

Lalwen shook her head sorrowfully and took a drink. “She got that severe look on her face like she was going to quote Rilke at me and said, ‘Some of us are destined for but one great love.’ And I said, ‘Ma, both you and Dad had two great loves, don't give me that b.s.,’ and she said, ‘Exactly, two is already more than my fair share, and don’t use Language on me.’ " Lalwen sighed. "And that was the end of me trying to get my widowed, nearly eighty-year-old mother on match.com.”

“Shame,” said Telchar. “She might have met my great-uncle Durin on there. They could have gone out for expensive aperitifs and argued about which retirement community is better, Taniquetil or Mirrowmere.”

Lalwen closed her eyes briefly to picture this, then opened them, grinning. “How’d you get Durin onto online dating?”

“He did it himself; he thought it was Facebook.” Telchar sighed. “The man could weld the underlying structure of an entire city with his eyes closed, but attempting to navigate social media might as well be trying to paddle the proverbial creek without a paddle.”

“Speaking of which, my older brother has been trying to get himself fluent in social media for his campaign, and from what his wife tells me, there has already been a blunder or two involving the misinterpretation of emoticons. I tried to tell him that this is why one gets millennial interns, but he’s determined to do it himself. He – Hang on a moment, Telchar.” Lalwen frowned as her phone rang. She looked at it and her forehead creased. “Care to take a guess as to why the Void County Sheriff’s office is calling me?" She looked back up, resigned. "Is that a stupid question?”

* * *

There was a bucket in the corner. After first trying to pretend it wasn't there, there had been brief speculation on what else it might be there for, and even that no, it couldn’t be simply a bucket, it had to be…something else. Surely.

But after two hours, they could no longer pretend otherwise. It was, indeed, a bucket.

They all watched it warily, and Amrod wriggled a little uncomfortably.

“All I can say is,” said Curufin, breaking the silence, “thank god I keep myself perpetually dehydrated.”

“It’s not the results of hydration I’m worried about,” whispered Amrod, looking apprehensive, and Amras snickered. He’d been having silent eruptions of laughter for the past hour, to the great annoyance of certain of his older brothers.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” hissed Maedhros, craning around on the hard metal bench to glare at Maglor, who just slumped lower in his seat and tried to pull his bandana over his face. Maedhros reached over to swat his hand away from his face. “Stop doing that, you don’t need to look like even more of a delinquent than you already are.”

“Oh, shut up, Nelyo,” said Celegorm lazily, who had his arms crossed comfortably over his chest as he reclined on the bench. “You don’t know how to properly enjoy an adventure.”

“An adventure?” Maedhros spread his arms wide in disbelief. “We are in jail, Tyelko.”

Celegorm shrugged. “Time for you get prison buff, then. Get on the floor, do a push up.”

“I would advise against that,” said Curufin. He was folded as tightly as he could onto the bench, arms and legs crossed so as to keep as much of him as possible from touching any part of the cell, but looked otherwise unrepentant. “God only knows what effluvia has been spilled on this floor.” He looked meaningfully towards the bucket once more, and flicked a bit of egg yolk out of his hair.

“I can’t believe you are taking this so calmly,” muttered Maedhros, whose own hair was snarled and whose eyes looked a bit wild. “Maybe it’s because you know that whatever happens, you won’t be held responsible.”

“It is because I regret nothing,” said Curufin loftily.

“I have regrets,” said Caranthir, who was tilted slightly to the left as Amras tried to get comfortable against his shoulder. “I regret that we used eggs and not rocks.” He smiled viciously and Curufin made a low noise of reproach. Caranthir narrowed his eyes at him. “What, you disagree?”

“No,” said Curufin, wincing but allowing Amrod to slump against his own shoulder. “It is simply that you should keep your voice down, lest they be collecting evidence to charge us with even worse intent.”

Celegorm yawned. “You know they don’t need any more evidence than what they have and whose sons we are. Just suck it up and get ready for the green mile.”

"Stop referencing prison movies already. This isn't Shawshank."

“Oh, mama,” sang Maglor softly, ignoring the withering look Maedhros was shooting him, “I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law…”

"Not you, too!"

Celegorm chuckled and joined in. “Lawman has put an end to my running and I'm so far from my home…”

“I’d be happier if we were farther from home, actually,” said Curufin. “This is still in range of the paper that Father takes. Do you think – ”

He broke off and all seven of them jumped as there was a jangle from the front of the cell, and they looked up to see a deputy leaning on the door. “Look lively,” she said. “Your ride is here.”

* * *

Lalwen’s boots rang clearly against the linoleum of the hallways. Her spiky hair was fully at attention, and her grey eyes were very stern in a way guaranteed to make the sons of Fëanor twitchy. She stopped in front of the holding cell and for a full minute was entirely silent, her lips pursed.

One of the cell’s occupants twitched, and someone whispered, “If she doesn’t talk soon, I’m gonna need to use the bucket.”

“Would you rather I called our parents?”

"Everyone hush." Lalwen ran a hand over her face. “I swear I’ve had this nightmare.”

Six and a half pairs of eyes gazed apprehensively at her.

Lalwen dropped her hand from her face and stared at the ceiling. She appeared to be counting, but there was a distinct tension to her lips, like she was carefully holding back an impulse.

“Aunt Lalwen,” Maedhros began finally, apparently unable to resist the ground-in instinct to act as representative for their hapless cabal. "I can explain."

Lalwen raised a finger. The Sheriff’s deputy had settled against the wall to wait, utterly unhurried. "I said hush."

“I told you she would have that look,” muttered Curufin, jostling Amrod to free his shoulder.

“Aunt Lalwen,” Maedhros tried again, not quite standing fully upright to avoid looming over her and falling back into an apologetic crouch instead. It made him look like a nervous heron. “I know you must be upset – ”

“I must be,” said Lalwen, to the ceiling. “Yes, that must be what I am. Goodness, I am having such difficulties right now. Because yes, I am going to rip you apart, Maitimo.” Her voice was severe, but the sense of something barely repressed behind the severity was as clear there as in the twitch of her lips. “But first...” She put a hand on her hip and looked at them through the bars. They all flinched back as she reached for her pocket. “Bunch together, reprobates.”

Maedhros blinked. “What?”

“I am going to take a picture of this.”

“Lord,” said Curufin, and immediately descended into the collar of his shirt.

Lalwen pulled out her phone and snapped a photo while Maedhros still had his mouth open in protest. “This beauty will somewhat make up for that unpleasantly sobering phone call, the ruination of my night off, and the fact of that bucket in the corner. I will need a good laugh later, and with it, I shall be able to blackmail you for the rest of your lives.” She examined the picture critically. “Impressively fast shirt removal, Tyelkormo.”

“The police record is going to eliminate the need for blackmail,” said Curufin, immerging from his collar with the air of one who had given great thought to the dire consequences he faced, and resigned himself to them. “Already we will have a permanent black mark against us.” He drew himself up like a French aristocrat facing the guillotine.

“Oh, it’s going to be an inch of the police blotter and a citation, I dealt with it,” said Lalwen, waving a hand dismissively as the deputy unlocked the cell and swung the door open. “You knuckleheads. Get out of there, little ones first.”

Looking both relieved and vaguely disappointed, Curufin nudged Amrod and Amras towards the door.

Lalwen grabbed the twins as they filed out sheepishly, and tucked one under each arm. “Are you two okay?”

“Yes,” said Amrod. “But I need to pee.”

“Best night I’ve had in ages,” said Amras cheerfully, his long bangs falling against the scars still covering the right side of his face before he flicked his hair out of his eyes.

Lalwen ruffled up Amrod’s hair and kissed Amras’ ear and then rounded on their brothers. “You let your underage little brothers get arrested? I am going to kick your asses into next week.”

“The arrest was bullshit,” Caranthir protested. “It was just a few eggs! We didn’t even break anything.”

“Irmo can pass it off as installation art,” said Maglor, rolling his eyes. “ The Consequences of Condescension, a study in Yolk.”

"It was Makalaurë's idea," Amrod piped up helpfully.

Lalwen muttered something as they filed towards the front door. Curufin was already buried in his reclaimed cell phone and Maedhros was trying to comb his hair back into a tidy ponytail again, but had only managed to transition from nervous heron to beleaguered soccer mom.

“What was that?” Celegorm, who had been grinning the whole time, nudged his aunt in the ribs.

“I said, I can’t believe you didn’t invite me,” said Lalwen, and then, more loudly, “Telchar’s got us an Uber out front, and we requested party-size to fit the entire criminal gang.” Caranthir, who had been looking unconcerned, suddenly froze, blushing furiously.

“Why is Telchar here?”

“That’s who I was with when I got Maitimo’s phone call,” said Lalwen. “You should just be glad I decided against picking up Haleth on the way.”

Celegorm prodded Caranthir in the low back to get him moving again, and Lalwen clicked her fingers to chivvy them along. “Your task for the ride home is to start thinking up a good story for your parents.”

"Two potential excuses," said Curufin, emerging from his phone as Caranthir attempted a careless swagger. "We can claim we were at Fingolfin's campaign party, or we can claim that we were, say, trying to buy crack for the Ambarussa." He paused. "Personally, I think the latter will upset Father less."

* * *

Haleth clung to the gym’s rock wall, her fingers slipping briefly on her grip before she swung herself nimbly over the lip above her, and tucked her toes into two nooks. She stood up easily, fingers questing for her next hold, and beneath her, on belay, Lalwen adjusted the amount of rope she had let out.

It was rare that the times Haleth had off to come to the gym actually coincided with breaks in Lalwen’s schedule, but today, as it happened, Lalwen had had a lesson cancellation.

Two of them, in fact.

“Tell me again why you have a full two hours free?” Haleth released one hand to reach into the pouch at her waist and re-chalk her fingers. “No-shows?”

Lalwen chuckled, bracing herself more comfortably against the harness. “No, they showed all right. They’re just passed out in my office instead of doing their usual free-climb and lesson combo.”

Haleth frowned, feeling her way along a crack with one toe. “Is that, like, a service you offer? Naps?”

“Only for wayward incarcerated nephews.” Lalwen tightened the slack on the rope as Haleth crouched and made her way along an angle. “Seeing as the Ambarussa were up until past midnight last night, but couldn’t tell their parents why, I allowed them to pretend like everything was normal and then catch up on the sleep the prison system robbed them of instead of their usual lesson.”

Haleth looked down over her shoulder, arching an eyebrow. “I am still so mad at you for not including me.”

“I wanted to call you,” protested Lalwen, “but I had to hurry! Also, I was a little buzzed and it was all I could do to coordinate being my usual gentlemanly self for the sheriff’s office, much less pick up my girlfriend so she could laugh at her friend and his brothers in a drunk tank.”

“Was it really a drunk tank?”

“I think they have just the one holding cell, honestly. Not much goes on in that part of town. But I should have known, really, that someday I’d end up picking up those seven from the Void County Sheriff’s Department. Figures.”

Haleth made a grab for a hold just out of reach and missed it. She cursed as she scrabbled futilely a second, then hung resignedly in the air by her harness as Lalwen laughed and leaned back into her own harness, keeping Haleth from falling. “Ready to rejoin me on solid ground?”

Haleth nodded, still rotating gently in midair, and Lalwen began to let out the rope from her harness, allowing Haleth to rappel down. She reached the ground, and Lalwen immediately reached out to hook her fingers into Haleth’s harness and pull her close. She tilted Haleth’s chin up to undo her helmet, and after she dropped the helmet to the ground, she didn’t let go of Haleth’s chin.

Haleth gazed up at her. “Hey girl.”

“Hey,” said Lalwen, brushing her thumb over Haleth’s lower lip. “So I’ve still got a free hour left…”

“Too bad your office is full of sleeping teens,” said Haleth, glancing over Lalwen’s shoulder to see if there was anyone watching them, and tucking her fingers into Lalwen’s waistband.

Lalwen chuckled. “We didn’t need my office the first time we ‘got to know each other’…”

“Right.” Haleth’s eyes lit up. “Broom closet it is.”

* * *

There was a patina of rain on the grass, but the sky was clearing, the clouds burning off into a pale grey that made pedestrians squint, despite the fact that the sun was still not quite out. Worms littered the sidewalk, and fat-chested robins hopped over the ground, eyes gleaming. Two pairs of shoes splashed unconcernedly through the puddles, sending water and worms flying, and a chubby robin took flight, looking affronted.