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“ What in Manwë’s name is going on in here?” Aredhel stopped dead in her tracks as she walked into the kitchen, nearly dropping the groceries she was carrying.
“Oh, uh…” Celegorm looked at Lómion, and then looked at himself. Both of them were covered -- hands, arms, face, hair-- with peanut butter. “We were, um, making lunch.”
***
It had started off that way, at least. With Lómion pestering his father in his workshop.
"Atyaaaaa," Lómion whined, "Make me something to eat! I'm hungry, and so is Huan!" The child clung to the neck of the animal, and they both looked at Celegorm with pleading eyes.
Celegorm sighed, setting down the knife he was working with and looking down at the two beggars at his side. "Can't Ammë fix you something? I'm a little busy."
"But Ammë isn't home!" Lómion pouted, sticking his lip out and clinging closer to the dog. "And we like the way Atya makes a sandwich better." He added in a loud whisper, then looked at Huan for confirmation, who huffed in agreement.
Celegorm looked down at the pleading puppy-dog eyes from both his son, and his actual dog, and sighed. "Alright, fine. Let's try not to ruin the kitchen while Ammë is gone, then. Eru knows she'll skin me alive if we leave a mess like last time."
Lómion just laughed, and Celegorm hoisted him onto Huan's back as they made their way out of the workshop and into the kitchen.
Lómion sat on the counter while his father busied himself with laying out dishes and bread, and grabbed a jar of peanut butter from the cabinet. He fixed three sandwiches, one for Lómion, one for himself, and of course one for Huan, who sat by eagerly waiting all the while.
"Okay, boy, here is yours." He handed Lómion his plate, "and here is yours." he tossed the sandwich into the air, where Huan caught it, and swallowed it in two bites.
Lómion split into peals of laughter, praising the dog on a good catch before tucking into his own sandwich as his stomach growled. Celegorm nearly inhaled his own, finishing it in more bites than the dog, but not by many. He stood beside Lómion, leaning against the counter and smiling fondly at the boy.
He was a messy eater, much like his father had been. His cheeks and fingers were sticky with peanut butter and crumbs were absolutely all down the front of him. Celegorm sighed, and chuckled, and grabbed a dish rag to wipe his cheeks.
"Atya," Lómion grumbled, his mouth full of food, "I'm not done yet." He pulled away from Celegorm as he tried to wipe the boy's cheeks clean.
"But you're a mess!" Celegorm cried, "You've got something here, and here…" He pinched Lómion's cheeks lightly, "...and here, and here!" Lómion was distracted by his father's ticking, and didn't notice his other hand swipe a finger through the jar until Celegorm smeared a stripe down his nose.
Lómion wailed with laughter, and shouted "You too!" before planting a sticky hand on his father's cheek.
"Oh, now you've done it," Celegorm laughed, dipping his fingers back into the jar to paint another streak across his son's face. His son, who retaliated by wiping some of the mess from his own face and returning it to his father.
Celegorm again reached into the jar, this time with his whole hand and pressed his coated palm flat against Lómion's face, which his hand covered almost entirely. He felt Lómion licking his palm, and pulled his hand away. "You little animal!" He laughed.
But he was not laughing for long, as Lómion smooshed the rest of his sandwich against his father's face, nearly screaming his laughter at the surprised look his father wore.
After that, it was truly war. Both of them laughing and sticking their hands in the jar, Celegorm acting like a child himself as they grappled and did whatever they could to cover each other in the mess.
Celegorm had lifted Lómion from his spot on the counter, and was holding him in the air, rubbing his nose against sticky cheeks and snapping his teeth in mock bites while the child screamed. "Oh, I could eat you up!!" he cried, while Lómion ran his hands through Celegorm's hair, streaking it with sticky clumps.
It was then that his wife entered the room, demanding an explanation.
***
Aredhel sighed, and set her groceries down on the table, before standing in front of them with her arms crossed. "Just making lunch?"
"Well, making, uh, um--" he stammered.
"A mess," Lómion cut in, giggling.
Aredhel side-eyed him, but there was amusement behind her glare. She took the child into her own arms, and tapped on his sticky nose, "I can see that. You are due for quite the bath, then." She smiled, but it turned wry as she looked at her husband, "--and you are going to clean this up." She gestured to the mess splattered on the counters and floor, that Huan was more than happily giving him a head start on mopping up.
Celegorm at least had the decency to look sheepish as he said, "Yes, Ammë." but not enough decency not to plant a messy hand on her cheek and kiss her before darting out of her reach as she shouted after him.