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nathair_nimheWritten for Hana, who requested Amras/Amrod/Fëanor + affection. Again, sorry this is so short, I hope you'll like it all the same. (I'll change the title when I think of a better one.)
Also, Happy New Year! :)
Rating: Mature
Words: 650
Pairing: Amras/Amrod/Fëanor
Summary: The twins come back sooner than expected from a journey.
“Why have you come back so soon?”
Telufinwë took a deep breath to slow down his racing heart, excited beyond control simply by being in his father's presence and hearing his voice again. Pityafinwë and he had all but run back to Tirion, a mere three weeks after leaving, burning with the need to be with him. “It was the marring which drew us back to its source,” he said – in jest, but with enough ardour to bleed the hilarity out of his words – reaching for his father's welcoming arms. “Implacably.”
Fëanáro flinched even as Telufinwë grasped his arms, his eyes clouded over – if his birth had indeed its roots in the marring, and if his sons were tarnished simply because they were his, the twins had inherited a fair share of blemishes, judging by both their looks and their mood . And perhaps the Vanyarin scholars in their pristine halls atop Taniquetil were right, and the birth of twins was in itself an anomaly, something that shouldn't have happened.
Telufinwë chuckled softly, easily following the trail of his father's thoughts. “And were the marring a visible stain, even then I'd embrace it, let it paint me all over...”
He drew his face close to his father's as he spoke, and touched his lips in the gentlest, most fleeting of kisses.
Pityafinwë came up at Fëanáro's left, his twin's perfect double, the exact same height, the same wind-flushed dishevelled face, and kissed him on the cheek.
“We came back sooner because we missed you, and we couldn't wait for you to move out of town,” he said.
Fëanáro wrapped an arm around each, pulling them close. “The debate still rages.”
Pityafinwë snickered: the debate over the nature of twinhood had only become more heated as they grew older, gaining new momentum after every begetting day celebration. It had been inflamed anew by the ceremony in which they had announced their cilmessi. A split fëa, a double fëa, two fëar which had contaminated each other, two malformed fëar which should have been something else, somebody else, misbegotten products of the marring.
“I wonder which theory will prevail, or if they will eventually tire of their disputations, or even, perhaps, realise the foolishness of their endeavour.” Pityafinwë glanced to the wall and his expression became smug, his eyes filling with mirth. “The question is meaningless. Unanswerable.”
Fëanáro turned towards the spot that had tickled Pityafinwë's attention. Laurelin's light grew stronger by the minute, casting their shadow as one large blotch against the wall opposite the window.
“We were born of fire, and like flames which grow and quiver until they merge and become indistinguishable, we are joined to each other, to you and to our brothers,” Pityafinwë resumed, “and the fuel which feeds the flame is affection. Affection, in its most powerful, most perfect form.”
He leant down for a second kiss, but to his father's lips, an hungry kiss which sucked all breath out of Fëanáro.
“We brought back some roots and seeds, we could sort them later, together, if you wish.”
Fëanáro nodded, while Pityafinwë pushed him back towards the bed, where he had been dozing when the twins arrived. He sat down, and promptly scooted back to make room for them among the rumpled sheets.
Telufinwë slipped a hand under the hem of his loose shirt. “But first we need to have you. I hope you don't mind if we don't bathe beforehand...let us daub ourselves in the marring like pigs rolling around in mud.”
Pityafinwë turned sharply to his twin. “Quit that!”
“No, no –” Fëanáro reassured him, laughing. It was impossible to brood, to pay any mind to vicious prattle with his twins, his babies in his arms. “Show me just how much sullying you can take. Do your worst.”
He fell back on the bed and Telufinwë had already undone the gap between their bodies, trapping him against the mattress.
Also, Happy New Year! :)
Rating: Mature
Words: 650
Pairing: Amras/Amrod/Fëanor
Summary: The twins come back sooner than expected from a journey.
“Why have you come back so soon?”
Telufinwë took a deep breath to slow down his racing heart, excited beyond control simply by being in his father's presence and hearing his voice again. Pityafinwë and he had all but run back to Tirion, a mere three weeks after leaving, burning with the need to be with him. “It was the marring which drew us back to its source,” he said – in jest, but with enough ardour to bleed the hilarity out of his words – reaching for his father's welcoming arms. “Implacably.”
Fëanáro flinched even as Telufinwë grasped his arms, his eyes clouded over – if his birth had indeed its roots in the marring, and if his sons were tarnished simply because they were his, the twins had inherited a fair share of blemishes, judging by both their looks and their mood . And perhaps the Vanyarin scholars in their pristine halls atop Taniquetil were right, and the birth of twins was in itself an anomaly, something that shouldn't have happened.
Telufinwë chuckled softly, easily following the trail of his father's thoughts. “And were the marring a visible stain, even then I'd embrace it, let it paint me all over...”
He drew his face close to his father's as he spoke, and touched his lips in the gentlest, most fleeting of kisses.
Pityafinwë came up at Fëanáro's left, his twin's perfect double, the exact same height, the same wind-flushed dishevelled face, and kissed him on the cheek.
“We came back sooner because we missed you, and we couldn't wait for you to move out of town,” he said.
Fëanáro wrapped an arm around each, pulling them close. “The debate still rages.”
Pityafinwë snickered: the debate over the nature of twinhood had only become more heated as they grew older, gaining new momentum after every begetting day celebration. It had been inflamed anew by the ceremony in which they had announced their cilmessi. A split fëa, a double fëa, two fëar which had contaminated each other, two malformed fëar which should have been something else, somebody else, misbegotten products of the marring.
“I wonder which theory will prevail, or if they will eventually tire of their disputations, or even, perhaps, realise the foolishness of their endeavour.” Pityafinwë glanced to the wall and his expression became smug, his eyes filling with mirth. “The question is meaningless. Unanswerable.”
Fëanáro turned towards the spot that had tickled Pityafinwë's attention. Laurelin's light grew stronger by the minute, casting their shadow as one large blotch against the wall opposite the window.
“We were born of fire, and like flames which grow and quiver until they merge and become indistinguishable, we are joined to each other, to you and to our brothers,” Pityafinwë resumed, “and the fuel which feeds the flame is affection. Affection, in its most powerful, most perfect form.”
He leant down for a second kiss, but to his father's lips, an hungry kiss which sucked all breath out of Fëanáro.
“We brought back some roots and seeds, we could sort them later, together, if you wish.”
Fëanáro nodded, while Pityafinwë pushed him back towards the bed, where he had been dozing when the twins arrived. He sat down, and promptly scooted back to make room for them among the rumpled sheets.
Telufinwë slipped a hand under the hem of his loose shirt. “But first we need to have you. I hope you don't mind if we don't bathe beforehand...let us daub ourselves in the marring like pigs rolling around in mud.”
Pityafinwë turned sharply to his twin. “Quit that!”
“No, no –” Fëanáro reassured him, laughing. It was impossible to brood, to pay any mind to vicious prattle with his twins, his babies in his arms. “Show me just how much sullying you can take. Do your worst.”
He fell back on the bed and Telufinwë had already undone the gap between their bodies, trapping him against the mattress.
no subject
Date: 2017-01-12 08:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-12 10:43 pm (UTC)