Archive of Our Own

“What the fuck is wrong with this thing?”

With an exasperated groan, Mairon fumbled with the elegant red tie around his neck in front of the mirror, much to Tyelpë’s amusement, who was stretched out comfortably on the king-sized bed within their small wooden lodge. He was still in the middle of a level of one of the games he sometimes played on his phone, so he just chuckled, but didn’t look up from the screen.

“Babe, why are you already putting on your tie?”

“Because clearly, it takes forever,” Mairon snapped, trying to adjust the knot and being visibly unhappy with the result.

Tyelpë just laughed, swiping his screen a few more times until he was done with his level and could pocket his phone. Leisurely, he rolled off the bed and stepped up to his boyfriend, a grin curling around the corners of his mouth as he gently swatted his hands away.

“Come on, let me. You could have just asked, you know?”

“Who are you, my wife?” Mairon rolled his eyes, but let him do as he pleased.

“Hmm… Not yet,” Tyelpë winked at him, adjusting the tie with deft fingers. “Starting to get the right vibes though. But I don’t think we should get married in a forest, that doesn’t seem like our style.”

“I have a different suggestion: You could just strangle me with this tie from hell and mercifully end my suffering,” Mairon groaned playfully, making Tyelpë laugh.

“I object. I would prefer to keep you intact.” With a smile, he smoothed his hands over Mairon’s shoulders and raised his eyebrows at him. “Now, do you want to tell me why you’re done half an hour before we even need to leave the room?”

“Hm,” Mairon hummed. He caught Tyelpë’s hand in his and pulled him close. “I’m meeting your family for the first time today, and at your brother’s wedding at that. You hardly want their first impression of your boyfriend to be that of the guy who stumbles in late and didn’t even manage to properly bind his tie, do you?” His gaze fell on Tyelpë’s bare chest and he smiled wryly. “It seems you’re less concerned.”

“Well, it’s not my first wedding, is it,” Tyelpë smirked back, curled his finger into one of Mairon’s belt loops and pulled him in to be able to press a light kiss to his lips. But he took a moment to study his eyes, take in the muted anxiousness that was still hiding there. His own voice sobered.

“It’s because of Nelyo, isn’t it.”

“What?” Mairon gave him a look that was just a little bit too bewildered to be believable. “Tyelpë, I’m about to meet your entire gang of brothers plus your father, who, and I quote you, is the most judgmental bastard in all of Beleriand. Plus, you know how I feel about weddings. This isn’t about Mae. Maedhros.”

“Mhmm.” Tyelpë gave his boyfriend an unimpressed look and a light prod in the middle of his chest. “All good reasons. It’s still about him. Talk to me.”

Mairon let out an even more exasperated groan than when he’d been fighting with his tie, turned away to walk over to the bed and let himself fall backwards onto it. If Tyelpë had needed any proof that he was right, the fact that Mairon didn’t even manage to meet his gaze spoke volumes.

“Well, it doesn’t exactly help,” his boyfriend muttered, staring at something apparently rather interesting on the ceiling.

Without hesitation, Tyelpë crawled onto the bed next to Mairon, lay down on his side and propped his head up on his hand to watch him.

“I get it,” he said slowly, voice more quiet now. “It has the potential for a bit of awkwardness.”

It was an understatement, and they both knew it. Of course Tyelpë had thought about this, leading up to the day of Maglor’s wedding when they had both been invited. He had sat down and had examined his own feelings on it for as long as he had needed, before finally suggesting for Mairon to come with him. Because, to his surprise, he had come to the conclusion that he was alright with it.

Tyelpë reached out and brushed some strands of blond hair back behind Mairon’s ear. “But it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”

“I don’t know. Does it?” Mairon looked back at Tyelpë with a hint of insecurity in his eyes that was rare for him, composed and self-possessed as he usually was. “Look… I know you were afraid of this exact situation. That Maedhros would always be there, that it would always be awkward. And I don’t want you to…” He sighed, reaching out to cup his face. “You know what? Maybe let’s just not talk about this anymore. I’ll deal with it, it’s not fair you should concern yourself with any of it.”

"Hey, stop." Unable to help himself, Tyelpë turned his head and placed a small kiss on the palm of Mairon's hand. "I don't want you to deal with it on your own. We're a team. Right? And I'm… okay with this because I know you're worrying about it. About me."

“No, I know what you mean,” Mairon said gently, tracing his cheekbone with his thumb. “It’s just, I know how much your family means to you. I would hate if I somehow… spoiled that for you, just because Maedhros and I had… well… have a history.”

Seeing his boyfriend this concerned made Tyelpë wonder if Maedhros was this nervous about the whole thing as well. If Fingon had to talk him down similarly. And of course, his and Maedhros’ relationship had changed ever since that reveal. They had become more distant, didn’t speak as much casually, but it had only been a few months. It surely would go back to something closer to what it had been before… right?

"You're not spoiling anything," he said quietly, never breaking their gaze. "You're my boyfriend, I love you, and if you were spoiling anything, I wouldn't be with you."

For a moment, Mairon just looked at him, a warm and thankful expression in his eyes. “Okay,” he said eventually with a small smile. “I’m sorry I make for such a crappy son-in-law, smartie. Or rather a crappy brother-in-law, in fact.”

Tyelpë let out a soft, huffed snort of a laugh and nudged his naked toes against Mairon’s ankle. “Honestly? You’ve got great competition for that title, I would say.” He laughed a little and shook his head. “You know… I’ve got a story for you that might make you feel a little better.”

Mairon raised his eyebrows skeptically, reaching for Tyelpë’s phone to eye the time on the display. “If you think there is enough time for that…”

“Oh, don’t worry, I only need one sentence to tell it,” he grinned wryly and snatched his phone back out of his boyfriend’s hand to put it down on his bedside table. “I used to have a crush on Fingon.”

That sure caught Mairon’s attention. “You had what? Seriously?”

“Mhmm.” Tyelpë crossed his arms on the pillow and rested his head on them, half-lidded eyes on Mairon. “I was… thirteen, fourteen? I was just figuring out, you know, that I like boys. Every time I was at Nelyo’s, he was there too, obviously, and - I mean, he’s a stunning guy.”

“All right - consider me intrigued,” Mairon rolled over and nudged Tyelpë onto his back, straddling him in a playful motion. There was a familiar spark in his green eyes, his curiosity apparently stronger than his worries. 

“Does he know?”

Tyelpë let out a soft, amused sound, his hands coming to rest high up on Mairon’s thighs.

“Maybe? Not sure how subtle I was,” he laughed and gave a shrug, eyes soft as he watched his boyfriend. “We never talked about it.”

“Mhmmm.” Mairon didn’t even bother hiding his amused grin now, playfully running a finger over Tyelpë’s naked chest. “And Maedhros? Did he find out?”

Distraction successful, Tyelpë thought with dry, affectionate amusement, enjoying the light touch on his skin. “Honestly, no idea. But it’s not like it matters… or mattered, even back then. I was a kid, and it was never anything serious, obviously.”

“Poor baby,” Mairon cooed, continuing with his teasing caresses. “How old was Fingon back then? Probably around our age now or something? I’m just trying to picture you with a big teenage crush…”

“Are you now.” A wide smile was spreading on Tyelpë’s face. “And what are you picturing?”

“Well, let’s think, hm…  Some adorable blushing kid trying to hide that he got a boner at the most inconvenient of all times?” Mairon teased, gently circling his thumb around Tyelpë’s nipple. “Reminds me - did Fingon already have these pretty barbell piercings back then?”

“Ah… yes, he did.” Tyelpë felt a bit of a flush spread on his skin, though if it was because of Mairon’s touches or because of Mairon’s words, he couldn’t have said. “Pretty on him, but I hope you’re not angling for one on me. I don’t think that’s really my style,” he chuckled.

Mairon cocked his head as if considering it, but then shook his head. “Mmh… no, I guess you’re pretty enough as is.” His voice was dropping a little lower as he continued to run his hand over Tyelpë’s chest and down to his stomach.

Tyelpë sucked in a sharp breath and wrapped his hand around Mairon’s to still it, raising his eyebrows at him.

“Careful, now. Or you’re going to make us both late, and that would go terribly with your first impression.”

Mairon clicked his tongue in pretended disappointment, but withdrew his hand and rolled off him, though not without pressing a kiss to his stomach. “Later then.”

“Gladly,” Tyelpë smiled, pulled Mairon close for another short kiss to his lips, and then rolled off the bed to gather his clothes and finally get dressed.

***

The beginning went better than Mairon had hoped.

Tyelpë had told him that it would be a rather informal, alternative wedding, since neither Maglor nor Liltariel cared for a stiff and formal ceremony. And the location had been chosen accordingly, just a few chairs outside in a beautiful, light forest, with large oak trees shielding the guests and the couple from the bright rays of sunlight.

Some of the guests had already arrived when they got there, and so Tyelpë had the chance to briefly introduce Mairon to his mother and some of his siblings. Nerdanel, who wore her brilliant copper hair pinned up, gave him a bright smile, telling him that she had been excited to meet him, just to inform Tyelpë in the same breath that she would personally rip Ambarussa’s heads off if they showed up late to one of their brothers’ weddings again. Caranthir muttered something under his breath while Curufin examined him with open curiosity but seemed pleasantly surprised when Mairon enquired on his PhD thesis on robotics and let slip that he actually knew what he was talking about.

They barely talked for half a minute, however, before a tall, good-looking guy with silvery blond hair interrupted them with a somewhat clichéed ‘I’m here, we can start!’ exclamation that didn’t really make any of Tyelpë’s family members laugh, but prompted enough good-natured eye-rolls. Tyelpë had enough time to introduce Mairon to Celegorm - the third oldest of the Fëanorian brood - but then Nerdanel sent them all off to do as most other guests were doing and actually sit down. Mairon caught a brief glimpse of Fëanor, who had eventually arrived just like the red-haired twins, yet he was not unhappy that this particular introduction had to wait until later.

Because of the many different people he had been introduced to, he didn’t even have the time to keep an eye out for Maedhros. But now that everybody sat down, Mairon saw the tall Fëanorion standing over at the vine arch at the end of the aisle together with a blonde woman in an elegant green dress, probably the bride’s maid of honor. His gaze was trained on the crowd, and for a split second, the silver-grey eyes came to rest on Mairon. Yet immediately he turned his gaze away to the woman next to him, saying something that made her laugh. 

Mairon sighed inwardly, wondering idly whether Maedhros was nervous about this well. 

A warm hand came to rest on his thigh, redirecting his attention to Tyelpë beside him. His boyfriend gave him a look out of those same grey eyes, warm and reassuring, eyebrows raised mildly. ‘Okay?’ he mouthed silently. 

Mairon couldn’t help but smile. He reached for Tyelpë’s hand and gave it a small squeeze, thankful and reassuring at the same time. He didn’t let go of his hand even when the sound of a single violin interrupted the excited whisper, a sign that the ceremony was starting, and Tyelpë just pressed a light kiss to his temple and held on to him.

It was a beautiful ceremony, and even Mairon, still sceptic towards weddings and marriage, couldn’t deny it. Of course there was music and singing, plenty of it, but the ceremony lacked all the stiffness and formality that he would have associated with such events. The mistress of ceremony was a friend of Maglor and Liltarial and told many heartfelt anecdotes about them that made the guests laugh, smile, and some of them even cry. This wasn’t so bad after all, Mairon concluded and relaxed a little, enjoying the warm sunshine and the feeling of Tyelpë’s hand in his.

Yet maybe he should have known by now that trouble was never far away with the Fëanorians.

It happened right after the ceremony when everyone crowded around the two happy newlyweds to say their congratulations. Curufin had just let go of Maglor to congratulate the bride when Maglor turned towards them, grinned at Tyelpë, and then blinked in utter surprise when his gaze fell on Mairon.

“You’re - wait - Mairon?”

And Mairon froze in utter shock. Damn, Tyelpë , I thought you had sorted this out?

“Annatar,” Tyelpë said beside him, his face a little pale but his voice brooking no argument and his gaze intent as he stared at his older brother. Maglor blinked at him for a moment, eyes wide, but then recovered.

“Annatar. Right. I’m glad you could come, nice to finally meet you,” Maglor smiled. His voice sounded weird, and Liltariel beside him was giving them a curious look, but Tyelpë simply pulled him into a hug, murmured his congratulations, and then lowered his voice further so that even Mairon couldn’t make out his words anymore. To make the scene not any more weird than it already was, he hurried to congratulate the bride instead, before turning back to Maglor.

“Congratulations to both of you.”

“Thanks.” Maglor gave him a bit of an embarrassed smile and added in a lower voice, “Sorry, Annatar. It’s really good to see you.” Again, was what he did not say. Mairon just smiled and nodded and then hurried to keep up with Tyelpë.

“What the fuck just happened?” he muttered between clenched teeth, all the nice feeling of relaxation suddenly gone. He felt as if someone had drained an ice bucket right over his head.

“I have no idea,” Tyelpë sighed next to him, and Mairon could feel his warm hand on the small of his back as he led them both away. The expression on his face was subtly troubled, confused as well. “I thought - I don’t know. I certainly would like to though,” he murmured, but then someone came up to them that Mairon didn’t recognize, and Tyelpë put on a smile for some more hellos and introductions. Mairon shook a few more hands until he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Fingon said good-naturedly. “Hello, Annatar.”

Mairon couldn’t help but return that infectious smirk, trying not to think about the last time he had seen it. “Hi Fingon. How are you?”

“Oh, you know,” Fingon shrugged dramatically. “Trying to survive in a horde of Fëanorians. It’s a tough business, you’ll find out soon enough.”

“Hi Fin.” Tyelpë had stepped up beside Mairon again, a little smile back on his lips and his voice a bit lighter than before. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

“And if that’s not one of my favorites of the entire bunch,” Fingon smiled and hugged him. Mairon saw how his words made the smile on Tyelpë’s lips widen, how he hugged him back without hesitation, but then stepped back beside Mairon, warm hand gently coming to rest on the small of his back.

“Done the rounds yet?”

“Not quite. I’ll still have to work up to my father-in-law, but I told Nelyo I need a drink or two before doing so,” Findekáno shrugged with a grin. “Have you presented the boyfriend yet?”

“To most,” Tyelpë replied, his hand switching from the small of Mairon’s back to his hip. “Not father and the twins yet. I’ll wait until -”

He fell silent right then though, and when Mairon followed his gaze, he saw Maedhros approach them, two glasses in hand. He stepped up next to Fingon and handed him one of the glasses, though his gaze didn’t leave Tyelpë and Mairon.

“Hello you two,” he said quietly, his voice lowered enough to make sure no one else could catch it.

Fuck this. Mairon didn’t know what it was - the fact that of course Maedhros looked stunning in a suit, the sound of his voice, or merely the look of those grey eyes. But he was surprised by the almost visceral response of his body, like a low, sensual tickle down his spine. He idly wondered whether that feeling would fade given time or whether he’d be cursed forever to nearly feel his knees buckle whenever that guy only entered the damn room.

“Hi, Maedhros.”

There was a brief silence that lingered long enough to almost become awkward. Before it really did, however, Tyelpë spoke up next to him.

“So… I could have sworn I asked you to make sure Káno was aware of… everything.”

The expression on Maedhros’ face changed to one of surprise, his eyebrows rising further up on his forehead.

“Ah… no. You asked if I could make sure that things wouldn’t get awkward.” His gaze flickered to Mairon before going back to Tyelpë.

Well, congratulations, Mairon thought sarcastically, but managed to turn it into an only slightly more neutral, “Well it did get a little awkward when he looked at me as if I sported two heads and called me Mairon in front of everyone.”

The expression on Maedhros’ face turned into surprised alarm, and Tyelpë’s gaze flickered away in sudden contrition. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to - Neither of us meant to compromise your safety like that,” Maedhros then said after exchanging a glance with his youngest brother who nodded, his hand slipping from Mairon’s hip and instead going up to run through his hair in what Mairon recognized as a gesture of mild agitation.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m not worried about any henchmen of Melkor anymore,” Mairon said quickly. The last thing he wanted was to see Tyelpë distressed about anything. “But I sure as hell don’t want to talk about him or any basement-related stories or whatever.” Also he was not sure at all what Fëanor would think about the guy that had, admittedly, helped to free his eldest son, but had, before that, also helped to do some tremendous damage to his company. But even between the four of them, he was not keen on mentioning this particular fact.

“Not that I am an expert on witness protection, but I suppose that the risk is indeed low, now that Melkor is behind bars and the case is closed,” Fingon agreed.

“Guess that was just a great failure of communication then,” Tyelpë murmured with a sigh, and finally looked up at Mairon to search his eyes.

“Don’t sweat it, baby,” Mairon said, hopefully sounding as reassuring as possible, and leaned in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “It’ll be just fine.”

As he had hoped, Tyelpë’s expression lightened, and Mairon received a small, soft smile in reply.

“Do we want to go look for seats?” Fingon asked, looking around. Indeed the guests had started moving to the nearby tables. “I believe there’s free seating and if I end up sitting next to Tyelko or Moryo again, I’m going to be so wasted by the end of the day that Nelyo will have to carry me back into our lodge. Different reasons, but same end result.”

Maedhros was about to reply, but Mairon didn’t hear what he said. Because just then, Tyelpë was back by his side, arm lightly wrapped around Mairon’s waist again. It brought him close enough to be able to murmur a quiet “Do you want us to sit with them?” into Mairon’s ear, leaving the decision up to him.

He didn’t have to think about it long. “I’m good if you are.”

“Alright.”

Tyelpë looked determined when he gave him a brief nod and then reached for his hand to entwine their fingers so they could both follow Maedhros and Fingon to one of the round tables. Mairon could see how Fingon naturally linked arms with Maedhros too, and suppressed a chuckle.

“Stars, you know… I always used to think they were corny as fuck?” he muttered in Tyelpë’s direction with a wry grin, gently squeezing his hand. The corners of Tyelpë’s mouth twitched, and he raised his eyebrows as he glanced back at him.

“What are you talking about, they are corny as fuck.”

“Right, glad we agree on that,” Mairon returned, his stomach doing a happy little jolt when he saw Tyelpë grinning at him. He casually stopped to take a champagne glass from one of the passing waiters’ trays and handed it to Tyelpë before snatching one for himself.

Maybe this wouldn’t get so bad after all.

***

“Aww, look at that. Aren’t they just the cutest?” Fingon said with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, emptying his wine while his gaze was following Tyelpë and Mairon. Dinner was over and so the young couple had finally decided not to delay the inevitable and was now walking over to the table where Fëanor was sitting. And Maedhros had to admit that even from over here, the looks they gave each other and the way Tyelpë leaned over to press a quick kiss to Mairon’s temple and squeeze his hand unmistakably spoke about how smitten they were with each other.

There was no way he and Fingon had ever done this much PDA. Right? No way.

“What even happened?” Maedhros whispered back to his husband, still feeling genuinely flabbergasted. “Do you know how absolutely he hated the notion of anything relationshippy?”

“Oh, I remember clear as day. Domesticated was the word he used, wasn’t it?” Fingon’s grin got even more gleeful, before he gently nudged Maedhros’ side. “What’s with the dumbfounded look, captain? Shocked that your little brother managed to tame the brat better than you could?”

“You could say that,” Maedhros admitted with a soft, incredulous huff, finally tearing his gaze away to look at Fingon instead. He looked absolutely ravishing in his perfectly fitting suit pants and shirt, hair styled beautifully, eyes bright under the strings of light spanning from tree to tree.

Maedhros let out his breath and leaned over just to press a kiss to his cheek. “Honestly though. Don’t you think it’s incredible?”

Fingon gave him a dazzling smile and then shrugged. “The boy’s really in love I guess. Didn’t stop him from getting a little agitated the moment you showed up, though.”

Yes… Maedhros hadn’t missed that. And he had no idea how to feel about it.

With a sigh, he reached under the table and put his hand on Fingon’s thigh, more to ground himself with the familiarity of it than anything else.

“Was I imagining it or did Tyelpë always know when and how to bring him back from that? They’re doing alright, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Fingon said softly, putting his hand on Maedhros’ to give his fingers a gentle squeeze. “Are you?”

Maedhros gave himself a moment to just look at Fingon’s face, allowed himself to sink into the rock solid, familiar feeling of boundless love and trust he felt for him. It brought a tender little smile to his face, and his shoulders relaxed again.

“Yes. It’s… weird, but… I’m glad. Really glad, actually.” He let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “If you had asked me, this is exactly what I would have wanted for them. Now I really need to get over my shock so I can start telling Mairon ‘I told you so’.”

“I’m sure he’ll love that,” Fingon smirked, visibly relieved and then eying the table where Mairon and Tyelpë were now talking to Fëanor. “How much do you think your father will disapprove of him on a scale from mildly to Ñolofinwëan?”

Maedhros followed Fingon’s line of sight, gaze settling on where his father was now listening to something Mairon was saying. Oh, he was going to get a headache.

“He…” Maedhros cleared his throat. “Well. That’s his ‘I’m interested’ face.”

“Oh, right. I think I saw that sometimes while he was talking to Curvo and Tyelpë,” Fingon said, but his words came with a good-natured smile. Maedhros let out a small warm chuckle and nudged Fingon’s shoulder with his own.

“Got to be a technical genius to make it happen, I suppose.”

“And I am not, is that what you’re saying?” Fingon gave him a pretend wounded look. “I even managed to fix our coffee machine last week. Well, sort of.”

“After it stopped working while you were operating it in the first place and then just hit it a few times?” Maedhros was grinning widely.

“The point is that it was working again.”

It was indeed, Maedhros was about to concede. In that moment, however, someone slid into the empty chair next to him, and when he looked over, he saw Amras, a too innocent look on his face. Amrod was following right after and grabbed a chair from a neighbouring table to sit down between them.

Maedhros narrowed his eyes.

“Hey there, lovebirds,” Amras said, his voice a little too casual to be unsuspicious.

“What’s going on? Enjoying the party?” Amrod wanted to know in the same tone, and Maedhros knew there was something going on. He dreaded to think what.

“Massively. Don’t spoil it.”

“How could we spoil it if we just want to chat with our favorite oldest brother?”

With a slow, deep sigh, Maedhros exchanged a long glance with Fingon and leaned back in his chair.

“Alright, spill. What’s going on?”

“We just asked you that question,” Amrod said pointedly. “Anyway, you’ve been sitting with Tyelpë and his new boyfriend the entire time. We’re just… curious.”

“Yeah, what do you think of him, Nelyo?”

Oh great. Best case, this was the usual gossip hunger that all of his brothers exhibited on a regular basis. Now how to answer this in the safest way possible…

“Mh. Very clever, and very smitten with our brother,” was what he settled on, but his attention was drawn away again when Curufin suddenly sat down beside Fingon, as if appearing out of nowhere.

“Is he?” Curufin inquired with a rather interested look in his eyes. “They do seem attached at the hip.”

“Right? So cute, those two.” That was Celegorm’s voice, right behind Maedhros’ back, and when he threw a glance over his shoulder, he saw Caranthir beside Celegorm. “Help me, what was his name again?”

“Something with A,” Amrod threw in. “Anniron?”

“I think it was something with an M,” Amras pretended to think. “Maiatar?”

“It’s weird, right? There seems to be some sort of mix-up with that name,” Curufin said with a razor-sharp smirk. “Care to help us out a little, Nelyo?”

Not best case then. Fuck.

Curufin had been nearby when Maglor had spluttered out Mairon’s name in surprise, and he had obviously taken notice. Still, there was a chance that none of his brothers had remembered the name that had only been spoken of only very few times back when the trial had been going on, with Maedhros having evaded actually saying it whenever he could. And even though it seemed slim, he tried to still keep his cards close to his chest.

“With a name mix-up? I don’t really see how.”

“You know, this is really strange,” Curufin said slowly, absent-mindedly playing with some of the table decorations in front of him. “Because I swear I heard Maglor call him Mairon. And wasn’t that the very name of the criminal in Bauglir’s gang who saved his own ass from conviction by helping you escape? Mere coincidence? I think not.”

Maedhros heard Fingon draw in his breath sharply. “Curvo. Look…”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Curufin hissed, suddenly giving them both an angry stare. “Seriously? Witness protection involves you letting our youngest brother date a fucking criminal?”

“No, stop right there,” Maedhros spoke up, his voice lowered but urgent. “Tyelpë knows exactly what he’s doing, and you know I wouldn’t just stand by and watch if I didn’t trust the situation.”

“How are you so calm about this?” Caranthir wanted to know, a dark frown on his face, but thankfully not too loudly.

“Yeah, I mean for all we know he could be trying to sneak away right now, all the silverware from the party in his pocket,” Celegorm grinned, which caused the twins to snicker. 

“For all you know, he might also be seriously considering to backstab someone with said silverware,” Mairon’s voice, coming from behind Celegorm and Caranthir, suddenly cut through the discussion and made the brothers jerk around. 

The young man crossed his arms, green eyes blazing. “Because that’s what you’d expect from a fucking criminal, wouldn’t you?”

Tyelpë wasn’t with him, and Maedhros quickly searched the wedding party with his gaze. He found him with their father, obviously still in some talk, probably more private, considering Mairon had left. Damn it.

“What’s wrong with you, sneaking up on us like that?” Curufin snapped. “This was supposed to be a private discussion.”

“I happen to sit here,” Mairon informed him coldly. “And your private discussion just happened to be about me, so might I just ask what the fuck is wrong with you guys?”

“Look, I’m certainly not going to sit here and be insulted by one of Melkor’s lackeys -”

"Stop," Maedhros threw in with a hiss, as loud as he dared without running the risk of drawing the attention of someone else. This already felt like it was getting entirely out of hand, especially with his brothers following the instinct all eight of them had, usually - to band together against any outside force, no matter who or what it was.

He quickly glared at every single one of his brothers that were present before glancing at Mairon, trying to gauge his state of mind.

"Do you really want to do this, right now? You all remember -"

"Do you remember how dangerous this is?" Curufin hissed back, his eyes dark. "Everything Melkor has done?"

Even in the fading daylight, Maedhros could see how something in Mairon’s face just closed off, a look that on some instinctive level triggered a sense of alarm in him. He had seen the young man before when being pushed too far.

But Mairon didn’t explode. He just muttered something under his breath, turned and walked away.

Maedhros was on his feet immediately, and stopped only when he felt his husband's hand on his forearm. Instinctively he knew that all Fingon was asking of him was to give Mairon a moment before storming after him - and he was probably right. Like most of the time.

So instead he looked back down to stare at his brothers, one by one.

"I'm warning you right now: No one else better hear about any of this. Are we clear?"

He was met with a mix of baffled and angry gazes. But even Curufin and Caranthir seemed to realize that this may have gone a step too far and did not look eager to pick a fight with him right now.

There was a moment of uncomfortable, stubborn silence until Amras was the one who broke it.

“Nelyo, we didn’t mean to - you know…”

For a moment, Maedhros stared back, and then rolled his eyes.

"I know. Just keep your mouths shut about this. We can talk later."

Maedhros cast another glance at Fingon who had already gotten up as well, then turned around, and they went after Mairon who had vanished between the trees surrounding the wedding party. 

Fingers brushed his wrist in a brief, affectionate gesture and Maedhros knew what Fingon had to be thinking right now. But no tease or casual joke about Fëanorian drama came over his husband's lips. Instead all he asked was, “Do you want me to come with you or go look for Tyelpë?”

Maedhros' first instinct was to ask for the latter. But when he questioned himself, he feared that he would be asking for the wrong reasons. So he sighed and shook his head.

"I saw him, he was still talking to father. Stay with me, please? I just want to make sure he's okay."

“Sure,” Fingon simply replied.

It wasn’t really hard to track down Mairon. The path in the woods took a turn right by a beautiful little lake. A small bridge was leading over the small river spilling into it, and Mairon was standing at the guardrail, looking over the silent water, his face turned away from them.

Maedhros slowed his steps and came to a halt a few paces away from Mairon. Fingon wasn’t right next to him anymore, and without looking, he knew that he was hanging back a little further for just a bit of additional privacy while still being present.

Stars, he loved him.

“Mairon?”

The young man turned his head, and for a brief moment, a look that was hard to interpret passed over his handsome face, before he raised his eyebrows quizzically.

“Don’t worry. I believe this lake is so shallow, it would suck to drown oneself in. If that’s what you think I was up to.”

“Drown yourself? Please.” Maedhros let out a soft huff, on his face a brief smile, and stepped up next to him. “I’m sorry about my brothers. They don’t actually mean to be dicks.”

Mairon rolled his eyes and shrugged, looking back at the lake. “Yeah. Whatever.”

Oh, he knew this, all of this. The dismissive tone, the pretense at indifference, the sarcasm. Sometimes, Maedhros thought it was almost uncanny how well he could read him - still read him - based on a time span of two weeks more than three years ago.

But now, he didn’t hesitate anymore to nudge his shoulder against Mairon’s. It was probably enough to tell the younger man that he could see right through him.

“They just don’t know you. And they’re protective of Tyelpë.”

“An entire family of control freaks, huh?” Mairon muttered sarcastically, fiddling at the railing. “Fuck. I knew I should have just stayed home.”

“You don’t actually mean that.” Maedhros turned around and leaned with his backside against the railing, so he could look into Mairon’s face more easily. “And when have you ever not turned around and proved people wrong about their assumptions about you, huh?”

There was a flicker in the green eyes when Mairon gave him a look and took a long, deep breath.

“It’s just… I’m just so damn tired of this shit.”

There weren’t enough words for how much sympathy Maedhros had for the pure weariness in Mairon’s voice.

“I know. I don’t blame you,” he said quietly, fighting with himself about whether to reach out or not. His urge was to wrap an arm around him, but he wasn’t sure if he should. “Something’s always going to happen that’s like a kick in the balls. But… you’re happy, all the other days of the year. Right?”

Mairon gave an affirmative hum, fingers drumming on the railing. “Mhm. Yes. I guess… things are good.” He smiled softly, though not without a hint of self-deprecating irony. “So good in fact that sometimes I tend to forget that unfortunately I’m not just any random, irresponsible college kid whose worst misstep was some harmless prank in class.”

“Hey…” Hearing that and seeing Mairon like this seemed to throw Maedhros’ previous hesitation out the window. Simply hoping now that it was okay, he nudged his elbow against Mairon’s side again and waited until the younger man finally returned his gaze. “Come on. I’m sure your boyfriend will gladly give you one the second he gets here, but until then… Want a stand-in-hug?”

Mairon raised his eyebrows, lips twitching. “Stand-in-hug, huh? And while you’re at it, don’t you want to ask Fingon whether he’ll get me a glass of warm milk or something…?”

Yet the warm look in his eyes as he turned towards him clearly betrayed the sarcasm in his voice, and Maedhros just let out a warm chuckle.

“Shut up and come here,” he grinned, held out his arm and gathered the younger man against his chest when he readily stepped closer. And it didn’t feel weird, to Maedhros’ massive relief. Just faintly familiar, and right, to be able to give Mairon this bit of comfort - which he clearly needed, or he wouldn’t have gone for it. The young man took a long, deep breath, head briefly resting against his shoulder, and Maedhros could sense how at least some of the tension left his body.

“Thank you,” he muttered, and Maedhros reached up to rub a comforting hand between his shoulder blades. Over Mairon’s shoulder, he caught Fingon’s gaze, the smile on his husband’s face warming him even more.

“You’re absolutely welcome,” he murmured back, allowing Mairon to be the one to pull away whenever he was ready. And it did indeed take Mairon a few more moments until he sobered up and pulled back, running a hand through his hair and giving him a slightly embarrassed grin.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for causing so much trouble for you and Tyelpë, at your brother’s wedding of all days. Not my intention for once.”

“Of course.” Maedhros gave the younger man a good-natured grin. “Believe me though, your case is on the more harmless side. And we’re no stranger to dramatic relationship revelations. Ask him,” he added with a tip of his head towards where Fingon was waiting for them.

Mairon was about to speak up - maybe to ask for clarification on the matter - when he was interrupted by the sound of hastily approaching footsteps. Tyelpë came into view between the trees, the expression on his face torn between worry and anger. But when he caught sight of them, the former quickly gained the upper hand and was joined by relief and guilt.

“There you are,” Tyelpë breathed out, jogged up onto the bridge with them and, without any hesitation whatsoever, pulled Mairon into a hug that the young man instantly returned. And as before, Maedhros could see Mairon’s face soften immediately.

“Hey there… Sorry, guess we were a little hard to find.”

Maedhros took a step back, turned and made to return to his own partner. Yet Fingon had already made his way up to the bridge after Tyelpë, and as his brother didn’t lower his voice, Maedhros had absolutely no trouble still hearing what he had to say.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, and that I’m late now… had to put their heads on straight. Stars, they can be such dicks sometimes.”

Mairon made a sound that was something between a laugh and an exasperated huff. “How did you even know what happened? I thought you were still busy discussing finances with your father or whatever.”

Tyelpë finally pulled away from their hug, though stayed in touching distance as he shrugged. “I saw that there was something going on when they were all cornering Nelyo.” His gaze briefly strayed to Maedhros’ before returning to Mairon. “And that you got upset. So I told them to tell me everything they said to you.”

“And they actually did that?” Fingon wanted to know, casually leaning against the railing next to Maedhros and giving him a brief, gently amused look.

“Yes.” Tyelpë still looked a little miffed, but delivered the answer with remarkable self-evidence. “I’ve got some dirt on the twins. They spilled.”

Maedhros’ eyebrows went up. “You what now?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Fuck, I’d have liked to see that,” Fingon muttered, neither bothering to lower his voice nor his enthusiasm. “I knew I’d be missing out on something.”

With a fond eyeroll, Maedhros nudged his elbow into his husband’s side. But Tyelpë glanced at Fingon, and Maedhros was almost sure he suddenly saw a bit of a blush on his cheeks.

“Anyway,” Tyelpë said pointedly and looked at Mairon again. “I promise they won’t say anything like that to you again.”

“It wasn’t that much of a problem, you know,” Mairon muttered, running a hand through his hair. His voice was a mix of affection and slight embarrassment. “I already told Maedhros I’ll survive it. Probably,” he added with a touch of dry humor. “No, seriously. It’s probably better the cat is out of the bag sooner rather than later. For once.”

That, however, reminded Maedhros to turn to Tyelpë again and ask, slightly alarmed, “Has father gotten wind of anything?”

To his relief, his brother shook his head. “I don’t think so. He noticed that there was something going on, but doesn’t know what.”

“He didn’t seem so bad, you know,” Mairon said. “In fact, a lot more amiable and interested than I pictured him after all your dubious hints.” His words were directed at Tyelpë, but he also briefly glanced at Maedhros, who reached up and wrapped his arm around Fingon’s shoulders and turned to press a kiss to his cheek.

“See, maybe you should have studied robotics after all,” he grinned widely.

Fingon rolled his eyes at him. “Hah. I could have won a nobel prize and he’d still be miffed at me for not only having the audacity of dating, but also marrying his precious firstborn.”

Yet the corners of his mouth twitched and he couldn’t hide the self-satisfied gleam in his eyes. 

“Right,” Mairon said. “I remember something Maedhros hinted at about dramatic relationship revelations?”

Fingon clicked his tongue and gave Maedhros a reproachful look. “Since when are you feeding him gossip?”

Maedhros attempted to give him his most innocent smile. “I thought it might make him feel better after what just happened.”

“Wait, you told him the drama episode of father finding out about Fingon?” Tyelpë threw in.

“He didn’t, but I’m dying to hear it,” Mairon said, mirroring Maedhros’ innocent smile.

“Alright,” Fingon shrugged, “but I definitely need more booze for that. Fortunately, I came prepared.” He casually reached into his suit to procure a small flask, took a swig and then held it out. “Anyone?”

Maedhros did a surprised double take, but before he could say anything, Mairon laughed and snatched the flask out of Fingon’s hand. “Damn, you’re my hero.”

Fingon’s smile broadened. “Word of advice, kid: Always come prepared to any occasion that involves more than one Fëanorian.”

“That’s a bit too dramatic, don’t you think?” The corners of Tyelpë’s mouth were twitching though, and Maedhros let out the soft huff of a laugh.

“Fin, darling, since when are you bringing hard alcohol to family gatherings?”

“Only to your family gatherings,” Fingon commented good-naturedly. “And in fact it was Aikanáro who pitched me the idea. Remember that family dinner where Tyelko thought it was a great idea to bring my sister along?”

Tyelpë let out a soft, wordless noise, and Maedhros merely said, voice dry, “Right.” And he held out his hand for the flask. 

“So about your family drama episodes…” Mairon hinted unsubtly, handing the flask over to Maedhros.

“Ah, well. Now I suppose the general idea is that anything involving their family and mine will ultimately turn into utter chaos and drama. Which is precisely why, when Maedhros and I first started dating, we thought it was a good idea not to tell anyone. Which, of course, ultimately didn’t work out as planned.”

“Guess those things never do,” Mairon said with a little grimace. “How old were you guys back then?”

Fingon had to think for a moment. “Uh, I was seventeen, in my last year at school. Nelyo was a little older, already going to college. Twenty-one, I think?”

“Mhm,” Mairon hummed and briefly glanced at Maedhros, a glimpse of a very familiar, mischievous spark in his eyes. “Thought so.”

Maedhros rolled his eyes at him, remembering very well how much Mairon had prodded to find out whether Fingon had technically been underage when they had gotten together.

“Oh, you be quiet,” he scolded him not too seriously and impulsively wrapped an arm around Fingon’s shoulders. “Are we getting back to the festivities then? I think the dessert buffet is open. Fin can tell you all about it after we’ve made sure we don’t miss out on all that.”

“Right. I almost forgot about your food obsession.”

“Alright, I’m not letting you two get started on this again,” Fingon interrupted them amiably, getting out of Maedhros’ hold just to wrap an arm around Mairon’s shoulder and pull him along back in the direction of the festivities. “So, kid, you want to know what you signed up for with that sweet boyfriend of yours? Let me tell you about my weirdest Yuletide ever…”

Maedhros was about to follow them, smiling to himself, when a touch to his lower arm paused him in his step. Fingon and Mairon went on, unaware, and Maedhros found his brother’s eyes, a silent question in his own.

“I wanted to say thank you,” Tyelpë said quietly, dropping his hand with a small smile. “Just, you know… for having his back.” When I couldn’t be there went unsaid, but Maedhros knew it was what his brother meant.

There were all sorts of things Maedhros could have said, so many things that went through his head. About Mairon, about everything that had happened, today, a few months ago when they had last seen each other, a couple of years ago, down in that basement…

But he pushed all that aside and gave his brother a smile.

“Thank you for giving our brothers a dressing down. Feels brilliant not to have to be the one who’s got to do that anymore.”

His smile widened into a grin when Tyelpë gave him a look and a small grunt.

“Well, don’t get used to it. Next time, we’re reversing roles again.”

“That’s fair.” Maedhros nudged his elbow against Tyelpë’s arm, incredibly relieved that he felt like he could do that again. “Considering how sweet he is on you. I’m pretty impressed.”

This time, his brother rolled his eyes, but Maedhros could see that a soft flush instantly rose to his cheeks. “Okay, okay. Let’s just make sure there won’t be a next time like this, and we’re good.”

With a little skip in his heart, Maedhros searched Tyelpë’s eyes, the same silver-grey that looked back at him from the mirror every day. “We’re good?”

A small smile curled around a corner of Tyelpë’s mouth and took the last bit of weight off Maedhros’ shoulders.

“We’re good.”