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"Ada? Can I ask you a question?"
Maglor should have known nothing good would follow a small child saying those words. Five younger brothers and a herd of younger cousins should have taught him that. Alas, he was still new to this parenting business, and so did not yet realise that "Can I ask you a question?" always preceded something highly embarrassing.
"Certainly, Elrond. Is it about your lessons?"
"No, it's about you. I mean, it's about... er..." Elrond trailed off, blushing. Maglor began to suspect what Elrond wanted to ask him. He prayed he was wrong; he wasn't ready to give the twins that talk yet. "Are you and Uncle Maedhros married now?"
Maglor made a noise that suggested he was about to choke. "What- When- How-"
"You know how Elros had nightmares after you told him about how Orcs are made?" Maglor nodded. In hindsight, that hadn't been the best thing he could have told two scarcely seven-year-olds. "He had one last night, so we went to your room, but you were on top of Uncle Maedhros." Oh Valar. "Elros said only married couples do that. So, are you and Uncle Maedhros married?"
Maglor tried to speak. It took him several attempts before he managed it. "It... depends on your perspective," he said, sounding like each word physically pained him. "If they knew, the majority of Elves would -" View us with even more loathing than they do already "- not consider us married, but since..." Here he paused, his face redder than Elrond's had been, as he searched for the right words. "Since a couple are married when they, er, consummate their relationship - do not ask me what that means! - then yes, Maedhros and I are technically married and have been for many years."
Apparently all those years of marriage hadn't taught them to lock the door. It was a mistake Maglor was determined they would never make again.
Elrond nodded seriously. "So because you and Uncle are married, does that make him our mother?"
"Ada?"
Elrond suppressed a groan. Just when he'd hoped to have a few hours free from one or both of the twins demanding his attention... "Yes, Elladan?"
"I have a question." Oh no. The last time Elladan had a question, he'd wanted to have dinner on the roof. "What were you and Naneth doing last night?"
There were several things Elrond felt like saying, in several different languages. The only one suitable for his son's ears was, "What were you doing in our room?"
"I couldn't sleep. I wanted to ask Naneth if I could have breakfast early." 'Early', in this case, meant 'the middle of the night', if Elrond knew Elladan. "You looked very busy, so I went away. What were you doing?"
Elrond was forcibly reminded of a certain incident when he was not much older than Elladan. He gained a new understanding of what he'd put Maglor through. "I- We- That is-" He searched for something, anything to tell his son that wouldn't make Celebrían eviscerate him. "We were... we were..." Surely there was some explanation that wouldn't lead to a talk he was not at all ready to give! In desperation he fell back on what Maedhros had told him every time he asked awkward questions. "I'll tell you in a decade or two."
Elladan pouted. "But I want to know now!"
A knock at the door interrupted his brewing tantrum. Glorfindel poked his head into the room. "Is Elladan here? Erestor says it's time for his lessons."
Elrond had never been so happy to see his son leave in his life.
Then, through the door, he heard Elladan say, "Glorfindel, what were Ada and Naneth doing last night?"
