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"Atar, ah, could we have a moment?"
Fëanáro raises an eyebrow. "What is it, Nelyafinwë?"
"Um...in private, please?" Maitimo asks. It's been years since Findekáno has seen him this nervous—perhaps not since the first time they had spent the night together.
He reaches out and touches Maitimo's arm. His fingers linger longer than he intended, and he is rewarded with a fond glance and a deep breath.
"If you would, Atar?" Maitimo prompts, this time indicating he would like to speak to his father in his office.
"Mm, very well," Fëanáro agrees, rising from his seat and stretching out his arms. Maitimo flashes Findekáno a timid smile, and he nods firmly.
"Atya, could you come also?" he asks his own father.
Ñolofinwë frowns. "With Fëanáro? Are you certain?"
"Behave," Anairë calls from the other side of the room, where she bounces little Arakáno Sintamo on her lap.
"Yes, dear," Ñolofinwë sighs, and this time it is Findekáno's turn to smile nervously at Maitimo. He reaches out, taking his father's hand, and leads him into Fëanáro's study.
"Him, also?" Fëanáro says snidely as Findekáno closes the door. "I thought you said in private, Nelyafinwë."
"This is private," Maitimo says firmly. Findekáno takes his place by Maitimo's side, feeling more confident standing with him than he ever could alone.
"Atya, Uncle," he begins, trying to make sure his voice does not shake. They've put this off for too long—he can't let his resolve falter now.
"We have something we need to tell you," Maitimo finishes for him. "For...some time, Findekáno and I—"
Findekáno tenses, watching as Ñolofinwë's eyes widen and Fëanáro leans forward with his nostrils flared.
"We..." Maitimo falters, biting his lip, and Findekáno cannot take the tension any longer.
He wraps an arm around Maitimo's waist, pulling him close, and blurts out, "We are together. In a—in a relationship. As lovers. Melotorni, you might say."
For a moment there is only silence. Then Fëanáro smirks, his eyes fixed on his son as he extends his palm toward his half-brother. Findekáno watches in astonishment as Ñolofinwë grumbles and reaches into his purse, pulling out a handful of coins and dropping them into Fëanáro's hand.
"Wh..." Maitimo looks like he's been run over by an oliphaunt. "Atar?"
"Of course you're 'together,'" Fëanáro scoffs, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I've known since you were young which way your gaze was turned, Nelyo, and ever since Findekáno latched onto you that he was never letting go."
"Atar!" Maitimo squeaks, blushing that attractive shade of red Findekáno likes to tease out of him. He isn't quite as alluring when it's his father he's speaking to, but he is certainly just as adorable.
"You knew?" Findekáno demands, glaring at his father. "And you said nothing?"
"Well—we had a bet," Ñolofinwë admits, but he looks suitably chastened.
"He thought you'd take another decade before you got the balls to tell us," Fëanáro says smugly. "But I knew better—my Nelyo, he's braver than that!"
"Findekáno is the one who insisted we tell you," Maitimo mutters, and Ñolofinwë's face lightens.
"That's my boy," he says gruffly, and pulls Findekáno into an embrace. "We are very happy for you, Finno. Truly."
This is not at all what Findekáno had anticipated. He'd prepared for the worst: disownment, exile, utter devastation, made bearable only by the certainty of Maitimo at his side. And yet—their fathers had guessed! They had already accepted their love!
It is better than any dream, Findekáno is certain. He laughs, hugging his father tightly, before letting go and flying into his beloved's arms. He kisses Maitimo full on the lips, joy bubbling up within his fëa, and doesn't even mind the exaggerated reactions from their fathers.
"Atar, I—we—thank you," Maitimo says, his eyes misting over. Findekáno leans his head against his chest, overwhelming happy in a way he had not known he could be. At best he had imagined grudging acceptance, not—approval!
"I cannot say I was happy when I solved this equation," Fëanáro admits, "but it is clear how happy he makes you." He nods to Findekáno, then playfully elbows Ñolofinwë in the stomach, perhaps just a bit harder than strictly necessary. "And if I can swindle some coin off this bastard—"
"Atar," Maitimo groans, and Findekáno laughs, tugging his beloved out the door, excited to let everyone else know the truth of their love. If Fëanáro and Ñolofinwë had figured it out, he is certain they have kept no secrets from all but the most oblivious members of their family, but it is a cause for celebration nonetheless.
And, he notes to himself as he kisses Maitimo for all to see, if their fathers' bet gave them the time to prepare for the public announcement before they were forced to reveal their relationship by some tactless interrogation—well, he supposes he can forgive his father for taking the more conservative bet about his bravery.
He is the Valiant, after all!