𝗟𝘂́𝗺𝗲̈,𝗜𝗻𝗱𝘂𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗿 𝗔𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗼 | LOTR & Marvel Crossover [PART3]✓

24 | Fingon the Babysitter

24 | Fingon the Babysitter

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Fingon Ñolofinwion | The Valiant

Location: Forlond, Forlindon, Middle Earth, Arda

Time: April 2981 T.A

There were times when he disliked having to tackle his cousins, mostly when Maedhros was not around and he was forced to hold back his exasperations. Don't get it wrong: he loved his extended family and albeit ignored the past – it was like having to deal with various clones of his sister all at once. And for Fingon Ñolofinwion: dealing with his cousins is like dealing with his siblings.

Knocking on the office door, the Fëanorian guard that stood beside opened it for him and Fingon entered the room.

He should have expected to find the two eldest in the city: one throwing a dagger at a wall plastered with maps whilst the other was busy writing at a large round table. Pages of parchment sprawled over the table, with a platter of some food and cups that were half-full of wine.

Expect the two of them already drinking in the early morning...

Finally one of them – unfortunately, the eldest – noticed him and Fingon nodded, "Tyelkormo."

"Findekáno." Celegorm returned, his demeanour already causing a headache forming as he stopped his knife-throwing and gestured to the platter of food. "You dazzle us with your wondrous presence, cousin. Biscuit?"

"No thank you," Fingon declined and passed over to him, placing down his satchel as he directed his focus to the dark-haired Fëanorian. "Ah, Carnistir. Someone with more intelligence for such things, I need to discuss some things on Maedhros' list."

Whilst Celegorm gawked and made a look of offence, Fingon watched as Caranthir stop his writing and make and peered up at him.

With a groan that almost sounded like a growl, Caranthir rolled his eyes. "Oh, not that list again." He complained as he eyed the pages that Fingon was now showing out of his satchel. "If I hear that list again I am going to genuinely go burn it and then put it in his tea."

Alright, Fingon might have to agree with Caranthir about that bit. As much as he loved him, Maedhros and his obsession with organization and routine were perhaps almost over the top. It was something he noticed when growing up with his red-haired ellon, a sort of coping mechanism he had when it came to being the eldest of seven.

Shaking his head, he returned to his agenda as he questioned him as well as Celegorm, "Please tell me we have completed the numbers correctly?"

"Yes, we have, Finde." It was Celegorm who replied, walking over to pat Fingon's shoulder. He sighed dramatically and assured him, "Stop worrying."

Yes because it's as if he could do so simply when there was a war going on.

Fingon shrewdly gave the two a look before bluntly answering, "Well considering I am also to keep an eye on you two for the sake of Maitimo's welfare I am trying to help you both." He paused for a moment, lowering his volume as he asked them with more concern than before, "Have you heard from Atarincë? Your mother?"

"No." Celegorm's voice grew harsh, the way his eyebrows furrowed. Afterwards, he glared down at the table, staring down at the list Caranthir was reading through. "We've asked Lord Glorfindel but all he's said is that nothing has corresponded."

Caranthir sighed and placed the list down as he plainly clarified, "What Tyelko is saying is that we don't trust Laurefindelë."

"What? Why?" Fingon turned, darting his eyes between him and Celegorm in confusion – and mostly concern. "I thought you all worked together?"