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“Thanks.” Maedhros still looked troubled. “Fin…”

“I’m sorry, baby, you know I don’t mean any of it. Just Monday talking, right?” Fingon grabbed his bag from the hook by the door and slung it over his shoulder. “Let’s get greasy take-out for dinner to celebrate your first day. I’ll pick up if you call it in.” He blew Maedhros a kiss. “See you tonight!”

“Tonight,” said Maedhros, but he stayed leaning against the counter long after the door shut behind Fingon. Restlessly his fingers plucked at his collar, unconsciously loosening the tie. “We’ll talk more tonight.”

* * *

Hey, Sunshine, long time no see

Oh my god that nickname will not die

that aside

HOLY SHIT THEL YOU’RE TEXTING

Yes, I am quasi in the real world once more

Or close to it

The USMC has seen fit to grant me ten days of leave starting next week

Ten whole days wow they are too soft on you boys

Yes I often thought that while being screamed at, abused, and trying not to pass out from various fun activities

‘This could be harder’

‘Why are they going so easy on us’

‘my goodness is this boot camp for puppies’

woof

Woof indeed

But holy balls it’s good to hear from you again

Like hear from you for real

Realish

Balls aside, I’ll be home the 20 th

Rather more than realish

Sweet hopping asstoads I am so pumped

Mmm I’ve missed your eloquent language choices

I know I bet you never hear a cuss in the company you’re in

Not a one

All good-tempered and well-mannered gentlemen who never say ‘mothercunting satan fuck’ when climbing walls while loaded down with backpacks the size of elephants

They say only ‘jiminy christmas’ and dab faintly at their glistening brows

I want to compose a novel of your texts

‘Texts from Ecthelion: As sent to his biographer, Glorfindel the Gorgeous’

it would be novella length, considering HOW INFREQUENTLY YOU TEXT

but it would be an instant best-seller

‘The Gorgeous’, huh

Is that your wwf name?

I think my wwf name would be something like ‘The G-Spot’

but I’d have to give it more thought.

Damn I’ve missed you

Likewise.

:’)

So

The twentieth

My bus comes in to the terminal around 1pm – Gate 7 I think

If you’re interested in meeting me when I get in?

No worries if you’re busy

Thel

Wild horses couldn’t keep me away

I’ll see you there.

Hypnotized from the day you were born

Chapter Summary

Chance encounters. Or not so chance.

Chapter Notes

0. This chapter is dedicated to thegreatpumpkin, whose birthday is today, and whose single comment on this post spawned the entire second half of the chapter and totally negated all my carefully laid plans. Happy birthday, you rogue, hope you’re happy. (But seriously <3)

1. This chapter contains ZERO Finwions, which may be a first. It also includes some make outs, some Narn, and probably the least appropriate re-purposing of a line from the Athrabeth. Mea culpa.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Haleth had clocked out of her summer work study job at the office of campus life, where she spent her days nodding off over a computer and handing keys to summer residents. Thinking cheerfully about the soon approaching weekend, she was entirely unprepared for someone grabbing her as she passed by a tree and pulling her around.

Haleth let out an embarrassingly loud squeak of distress, and then, to make up for it, threw up her fists and yelled, “Yo, WHAT?” at the top of her voice.

“Gosh, nice reflexes. Bit shrill, but that’s probably fine.”

Haleth did a double take, recognized her assailant, sighed with relief, and then darted out a foot to kick her in the shins. “Don’t surprise me like that!”

Andreth dodged out of the way. “Sorry!”

"I could have hurt you!"

"I'm sure you could have."

“Wave next time, or call my name, or something, gawd, were you raised in a barn?”

“I waved and called your name!” protested Andreth. “You didn’t notice.”

“I was focused,” said Haleth peevishly.

“Fine, but now I’ve successfully refocused your attention…” Andreth looked contrite and pleading all at once.

Haleth grumbled and lowered her hands. “Yes, fine, you have. Can we walk while you tell me why you needed my attention? I’m dying to get home and shower.”

“Sure.” Andreth fell into step next to Haleth, and they began the trek across campus.

“So,” said Haleth, when Andreth didn’t say anything. “What’s the crisis?”

“You’re going to judge me.”

“Who, me? I am so non-judgmental.”

“Hah.”

“What? I don’t judge my friends for their political opinions, even when they’re offensive and wrong – ”

“Yes, you do, all the time.”

“Or their choices in clothes…”

“Remember when you called Aredhel’s shorts ‘Hicktown, USA’?”

“She took it as a compliment. Anyway, I won’t judge you. What warrants you grabbing me like a crazed strangler?”

Andreth sighed. “I hooked up with Aegnor.”

Haleth didn’t stop walking, but she did stumble a little, catching her toe on an uneven bit of sidewalk. “Ouch.”

Andreth folded her arms. “You’re doing it, you’re judging me.”

“No, no, I swear…” Haleth shuffled her foot to try and straighten out her shoe. “Oh man, this explains what Aredhel was hinting at when she texted me last week. Jeez. Um, okay. So I’m guessing you hooked up at the party, right?”

“Yes.”

“Granted I wasn’t very with it that night, but from what I heard, you and Aegnor had less of a reconciliatory make out than a knock-down, drag-out screaming match.”

“No knocking or dragging, but yes, we did. That was the part that people saw, but it was followed by sex in the bathroom, which I hope no one saw. And I don’t know if I'd call it ‘reconciliatory’ exactly.”

“But good sex?”

“Great sex.”

“You two are so fucking consistent.”

Andreth groaned. “I know.”

Haleth shook her head. “So what happened after?”

“Nothing!”

“Mmhm. What happened after, really?”

“He texted me the next day. I went over to his place. We yelled at each other a bunch.”

“And?”

“And we had sex again.”

This time Haleth did stop, shaking her head in despair, but also laughing. “Seriously, girl?”

“I know.” Andreth hunched her shoulders and looked like she was trying to get all the embarrassing news out despite it causing her physical pain. “Aaand we’ve been hooking up every other day since.”

“Lord almighty. So are you back together again?”

“No! I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know. I don’t want to. Maybe.”

Haleth glanced at Andreth, whose blush was showing through her tan. “Maybe?”

“He’s still a twit about the things he was a twit about before. It’s not like he magically has a better grasp on why I had problems with the assumptions he made, or his privileged elitist rich boy ignorance, or the way he used to break up with me ‘for my own good and because he loved me too much to do this to me’ and all that shit…”

“I thought a good part of why you broke up was that stuff Finrod said to you.”

“He just made clear all the issues we were already having.”

“But apart from the sex, do you like him still?”

“Yes. No. I kind of hate him. But he’s so – And he can keep up with me – And he challenges me and makes me laugh and is such a dork – And augh, the sex is so good.” Andreth dropped her head onto Haleth’s shoulder with a cry of despair as Haleth tried not to laugh again. “Why does he have to be so sexy and so wrong for me?”

“He’s not that sexy,” said Haleth, automatically. “His hair is ridiculous.”

“I like his hair,” said Andreth sadly.

“Cleary.” Haleth patted Andreth’s shoulder. “Okay, hooking up with an ex is not so unusual, right? Stop beating yourself up, plenty of us have been there. Who else have you told?”

“No one.”

“Really? What about Amarië, she’s one of your best – ”

“Are you kidding? I can’t tell Amarië.”

“Why not?”

“I was the one who was all ‘Fuck those Arafinwion boys– ’”

“Heh, taking your own advice literally, then.”

“Shut up, I’m serious. I did mean it when I said those boys are bad news and we’re better off without them, even if they are horribly pretty. I was supposed to be the good role model for not letting a break up get in my head.”

Haleth wisely held her tongue at this, and Andreth went on. “She’s just starting to get over Finrod, what’s going to happen if she finds out I’ve slipped back into hooking up with his dumb brother?”

“You and Aegnor are a totally different story than her and Finrod! He cheated on her, repeatedly. Aegnor’s crime was being an oblivious arrogant white boy with commitment problems. He can outgrow those, presumably. I mean, he probably can’t outgrow being a white boy, but the rest…”

“I’m not even interested in dating him again! I think. I just want…I just like…”

“Fucking him,” provided Haleth, though she didn’t quite believe that was all there was to it.

“Yes. Don’t you think Amarië is going to judge me?”

“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t want me to, but I’d give her more credit.”

"Even if she doesn't judge me, it might just make her sad." Andreth sighed and hooked her arm though Haleth’s. “I don’t know. I was so proud of myself for moving on, and then it turned out I didn’t move on at all. Just don’t tell Amarië yet, okay?”

Haleth patted her hand. “I wont. So is he really that good in bed?”

“So good,” said Andreth woefully. “I swear I’m just a hapless moth and despite me repeatedly getting scorched, his dick is a flame I keep being drawn to.”

“Ew.”

* * *

Beleg walked up to steps to the condemned house. Like most of the houses in this part of town, it was grim and grey and shuttered, but he guessed that it was only quasi-abandoned. From what he understood of this neighborhood, the house might not be ‘lived in’ in the traditional sense - ‘sporadically inhabited’, or perhaps ‘possessed’, might be closer to the mark. He was trying hard not to let his nerves show, but his hands were trembling as he rang the doorbell. After so many weeks of searching, would his efforts finally pan out?

He waited a while, until he realized there was no chance the doorbell still worked, and instead rapped on the door and stepped back. He hesitated, and was just about to knock again when the door was pulled open from the inside, and a cold-eyed, rough-dressed man stared out at him.

“Yeah?”

“I talked to someone who told me to come here at this time,” said Beleg. His voice was low and steady, but he shoved his hands into his pockets so his shaking fingers weren’t visible. “Are you Andróg?”

The man stared at him a while without answering, and then said, “Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Phone.” The man beckoned impatiently. “Hand it over.”

Beleg reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, which he passed over. The man – Andróg, Beleg was sure it must be, because the voice sounded like the one he’d talked to earlier – flicked through it briefly, then pocketed it. “You’ll get it back later.”

Beleg considered protesting, but decided against it as Andróg turned into the house. Beleg closed his mouth and followed him into a dark hallway. They walked in silence for a while, through unlit hallways and rooms that smelled like mold and worse, until they reached a descending flight of stairs, and a basement room that seemed to be the only one in the house with electricity. A flickering light bulb lit the five other men sitting around the walls, and Beleg couldn’t hold himself back when his gaze landed on the youngest of them.

“Túrin!”

The dark-haired boy looked up, and his face briefly lit with some wild emotion, that was then carefully dimmed with an almost visible force of self-will.

“Nate,” said Andróg, shutting the door behind Beleg. “That shit who was looking for you is here.” It was clearly an unnecessary pronouncement; as soon as Beleg had entered, Túrin’s eyes had fixed on him without blinking, as if transfixed.

The rest of the crowd in the basement looked rough and not at all friendly towards a stranger in their midst, but every sense of caution had gone out of Beleg’s mind as soon as he’d laid eyes on Túrin.

“Túrin,” he said again, and crossed the room to drop to his knees before where Túrin was sitting. “Oh my god, I’ve been trying to find you all summer.” After hours, days of silence and anticipation, he suddenly couldn’t stop talking; it was like a burst of hysteria, or madness. “Listen, Nellas saw what happened between you and Saeros. She heard the slurs he used, and how he threatened you… I’ve gone to the Dean, and the President, and they’ve agreed that they won’t expel you or even suspend you until you’ve talked to them, and I know I can get Nellas to testify on your behalf, and I honestly think we can get them to see it was self-defense against a bias incident, if anything, and…and Túrin, you’ve got to come back, please, this isn’t where you should be, come back, you can stay with me, it will be okay, I promise…”

But Túrin fixed grey eyes on him, and after an initial flicker like he was holding back some intense urge, said, in a cold monotone, “My name is Neithan.”

“What?” Beleg was confused, shaken; he reached out to try and take Túrin’s hand, and the men sitting beside him reached for their waistbands. “Túrin, I don’t understand.”

“While we’re here,” said Túrin in the same emotionless affect, “and from now on, I am not Túrin. I am Neithan.”

Beleg blinked, and took Túrin’s hand anyway, ignoring the shifting of hidden weaponry around the room. “I’ll call you whatever you want, T – Neithan, but please, please come home.”

“I’m not coming back,” said Túrin, in a voice far harder than his nineteen years. “I’m sorry you went to this trouble.” But he didn’t pull his hand away from Beleg’s.

“It was no trouble,” said Beleg, trying to conceal his despair. “Why… Why aren’t you coming back?”

“I’m not welcome,” said Túrin flatly. “I don’t want to be where I’m not welcome.”

“That’s not true.” Beleg cast a glance around at the distrustful eyes watching him. “Can we talk privately?”

“No,” said Andróg, who was still by the door.

“Please?” Beleg ignored Andróg, watching Túrin intently.

“Fine,” said Túrin at last, and gestured to the others with an authority that Beleg was both surprised and not surprised to see them respond to. “Leave us alone.”

Andróg was the last to leave, and he cast a deeply suspicious look at Beleg before he did, but at last the two of them were alone in the room. This time Beleg took both Túrin's hands in his own and tried to get his friend to meet his eyes. Túrin looked at him at last, and Beleg felt the slightest answering pressure against his hands. Somewhere, deep below the cool armor, there was some bright, unwavering light in Túrin’s eyes, a brightness that he fixed on Beleg as he stared back at him and held his hands tightly. Emboldened, Beleg tried again.