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Maedhros was dead tired when he had finally finished cataloguing the new books and could lock up the library and go home. Sometimes it was a good thing living only a few blocks from your work place, he thought as he trudged home along snow-covered sidewalks. He unlocked the front door and practically fell in, removing his boots and carelessly dropping his coat on the chair in the hallway. The house was dark and quiet, so Fingon was probably not home yet.
He dragged his feet as he walked through the house towards the bedroom. As he made to pass the living room, he thought he saw movement, and stopped, pondering whether he should just write it off as one of the cats or go investigate. Despite his fatigue, he decided on the latter and entered the room, switching the lights on.
”SURPRISE!” Maedhros shrank back from the exuberant horde suddenly crowding him in the doorway. It looked like his entire family was there, and then some. All his brothers, certainly, and quite a few cousins that he could make out. Then someone clapped him heartily on the shoulder. ”Hey Mae, didja forget it was your birthday today? Scatterbrained elf!” His best friend Azaghâl grinned at him above his bushy beard and gave him another clap on the shoulder that sent him stumbling into the living room proper, where his brothers proceeded to nearly smother him in hugs. Well, most of them. Curufin, of course, stood to the side, one eyebrow raised almost to his hairline, since obviously such emotional outbursts were beneath him. Caranthir joined the hugfest with a short, one-armed hug and a pat on the back, then retreated, cheeks pink with something that could have been annoyance, or just a reaction to Finrod’s presence. Or a combination of both.
Maedhros suddenly found himself with an armful of Fingon, while Finrod, with Aredhel’s help, popped the cork on a bottle of cava and started pouring the bubbly into an odd assortment of glasses and mugs. Fingon nuzzled his cheek and whispered: ”Well, did you think I would just forget what day it was?”
Finrod handed them a glass each, then lifted his mug, which proudly proclaimed ”Bigger on the inside” in glaring red letters on a blue phone box, and shouted: ”All right, gang! Raise your glasses, mugs and assorted drinking vessels and give a cheer to the doyen among us, the one, the only, Maedhros Fëanorion! May his hair always stay traffic-light red and may he never bang his head on a door lintel!”
”That was just once, and long ago”, Maedhros muttered, but nodded and smiled graciously at the cheers, laughs and bad puns on the topic of banging. He sipped his cava, and grimaced, giving Fingon a quick look. ”Was it necessary to have Finrod get the bubbly? You know he’s crazy about the sweet stuff... this just might tip a diabetic over the edge”, he whispered.
Fingon shrugged. ”Not everyone is a wine connoisseur like you, honey-bunny. I have no problem with this.” To prove his point, he downed the content of the glass in one go, making Maedhros wince.
”Ok, time for some music now!” Maglor broke in in his well-schooled voice, not even having to raise it to make himself heard through the loud babble. He was greeted with raucous shouts, cheers, jeers and requests. He’d brought his ukulele, Maedhros noted with little to no surprise. Maglor struck a chord and began a lively song about a wake with heavy drinking, fighting guests and waking corpses. They all sang along with the chorus, even Curufin belted out a ”Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner round the floor yer trotters shake”, before shutting his mouth quickly and looking furtively around to see if anyone caught him acting out of character.
Several hours later they were still at it. The cava was long gone, and they’d run out of whisky a while back. Now they’d broken out the horrible liquors that were left in the cabinet, stuff that had been ignored for years because noone could stomach it. Turgon lifted a bottle and peered blearily at the label. ”What the heck is pal... pálinka?”
Celegorm waved another bottle in the air: ”This stuff looks really horrid! Gammeldansk? What kind of name is that?”
Fingon rolled his eyes, but before he had the chance to answer, Maedhros beat him to it: ”It’s the stuff you’re going to bring along when you go wherever you lot are going to continue drinking, because you’re leaving now. I’m sorry gang, but I’m absolutely beat and I need my beauty sleep.” Everyone laughed at that, although Fingon was heard murmuring something that sounded like ”no you don’t”.
The party crowd left soon after that, bringing a few suspicious-looking bottles to tide them over until they got to Finrod’s place. Turgon and Angrod were stumbling with arms linked, singing an old Noldor drinking song loudly and very much off-key. Aredhel and Celegorm were chugging from the bottle of Gammeldansk and making gagging sounds in between drinks. Maedhros breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the last of his brothers out through the door, Maglor still clutching his ukulele, Caranthir clutching Finrod just as tightly. Then he turned around, giving Fingon a tired smile and a small sigh. ”Thank you for the surprise love. It was sweet of you, and a good thing we got rid of all that execrable booze too. Although it was a pity with the 24 year old Lagavulin...”
Fingon grinned brightly and said: ”Honey-bunny, it’s still your birthday for another hour or so... what would you like? Sleep, or one more birthday present?” He waggled his eyebrows.
Maedhros threw him a look and smiled softly. ”I think I can keep awake for a while yet... lead on Macduff!”
Fingon grabbed his hand and drew him towards the bedroom door, then stopped and looked at him. ”Just go brush your teeth and get ready for bed babe, I have a few things to prepare.” Maedhros nodded and made a quick stop in the bathroom before knocking quietly on the bedroom door. ”Just a second!” Fingon’s voice sounded a little strained. Then just moments later, he called out: ”You can come in now!” Maedhros opened the door and slipped inside. His mouth fell open at the sight that met him. There were burning candles on every available surface, apart from the bed. The bed was covered in dark green silk and strewn with white and pink rose petals.
What made him gasp, though, was the sight of Fingon, dressed only in a blue silk robe, black hair loose down to his waist. Fingon took a step towards him, then went down on one knee and held out one hand, a small box resting on his palm. He popped the lid on it, revealing something silvery and glittering inside. ”Mae... you’re everything I’ve ever wished for and wanted. I want to live the rest of my life with you at my side. Will you marry me, Maedhros?”
Maedhros closed the rest of the distance to him, fell to his knees on the floor and wrapped his arms around him, whispering a quiet ”yes!”, before throwing his head back, shouting: ”Yes Fingon, I will marry you!” They were both laughing and crying at the same time. Fingon dashed a few tears away, smiling brightly at his lover and taking his left hand in his. He slipped the ring onto Maedhros index finger, kissing his knuckles lovingly, then turning his hand over and kissing the palm. They looked deep into each other’s eyes, lost in the magic of the moment.
At that precise moment, the doorbell rang. Fingon groaned and got to his feet. ”It’s almost midnight, who’s calling at this time?” He shuffled tiredly towards the hallway, Maedhros following him. Fingon opened the door, then stared silently at the troop of Finwëans outside.
”We realised Finrod ran out of booze last time we had an after-party at his place”, Celegorm explained somewhat sheepishly.
”So we thought, well, you still had the pálin... whatever, and some of that homebrewed rosé”, Azaghâl continued, when neither Fingon nor Maedhros made any comments or moves to let them inside. Then his bloodshot eyes landed on Maedhros left hand. ”HEY! When did this happen? Hey gang, Finno and Mae are ang... engaged!” A ragged cheer went up and the whole flock crowded inside, shouldering past their hosts, depositing boots and winter coats all over the hallway floor, wondering loudly where the rest of the booze was.
Fingon slipped quietly away for a few moments as their unruly family settled back in the living room, cracking open bottles and making themselves at home. After a while he returned, fully dressed, with a small bag and a furtive mien. He grabbed Maedhros’ hand, and they slipped out the front door and dashed off to the street corner, where a cab was waiting. ”I called and made a reservation for the bridal suite at Hilton”, Fingon whispered. ”We should be safe there.” He grinned suddenly. ”You won’t mind having our wedding night in advance I hope.”