Chapter Text
Fëanor stalked the halls of his home, searching for his two eldest sons. Eventually, he found them in the sitting room attempting to teach both the Ambarussar and the Morquar to play chess. He watched as Amrod decided that Manwë had granted his pawns the gifts of flight and laser eyes. Elros did not understand at first, but quickly turned his knights to unicorns that could skewer any piece from five spaces away.
Across the room, he saw Elrond look to Amras and then to the board, and then to Amras again and then back to the board. Finally, he looked to Amras and, while maintaining steady eye contact, wiped every piece from the board, declaring himself the winner in heavily accented Quenya.
Maglor quickly scolded Elrond and calmed Amras before it could devolve into a fight. Maedhros looked at his wits end trying to explain the rules to Amrod and Elros, eventually giving up and allowing them to play their own… modified version of the game. Fëanor chuckled fondly at the sight.
Maedhros and Maglor’s heads snapped up to meet his gaze. “Atto, I apologize. I did not hear you enter.”
“It is quite alright, Makalurë. I was merely observing.” Maglor nodded and then turned back to the children, exasperatedly reminding them to pick up their game pieces.
Maedhros continued to look at him piercingly. “Is there a reason you were seeking us?”
Fëanor sighed. Maedhros had been cold to him since he had returned. He could understand why. He was largely responsible for much of his son’s misfortune in the alternate future, but he knew that he would not make the same mistakes this time. He still had to prove that to his children however. “Yes, actually. There is a matter of… middling importance that I wished to discuss with the two of you. If you have a moment, of course.”
Maedhros and Maglor looked at each other and nodded. “We have time,” said Maedhros.
“Wonderful! I think it is high time I informed your Yáratto that you are here. He will be very anxious to see you again and to meet your sons, but I wished to speak with you before I draft the letter.”
Maglor looked torn between excitement and apprehensiveness; Maedhros remained cool and stoic. After a moment of indecision, Maglor responded. “I look forward to seeing him, but perhaps you should tell him to come alone? Elros and Elrond would be easily overwhelmed in the wave of relatives he would bring with him. We should introduce them to the family slowly.”
Fëanor nodded. “I agree. I shall write him presently and invite him to stay the weekend.” With one last fond glance around the room, he turned and made for his study.
Finwë was in his study looking over documents detailing the season’s harvest when he heard a knock at the door. “Enter.”
A servant opened the door and approached the busy elf, carrying the day’s mail. Finwë sighed. “Thank you. You may set that here, on my desk.”
The servant bowed politely and left. Finwë glanced through the letters to determine if any of them were urgent and one of them caught his eye. It was small and he would have dismissed it as entirely inconsequential were it not for the royal seal and familiar handwriting.
Fëanor had seldom written him since his two eldest sons had disappeared so he considered every quillstroke a blessing. He opened the letter and read, wondering what could possibly be important enough for his wayward son to break his silence.
My dear Father,
Rejoice! Your grandsons have returned from their wanderings. They have brought back with them strange tidings however. They say that they come from many centuries in the future and, given the manner of their return, their looks, and their knowledge, I believe them. They must have been gone for much longer than twenty years.
They also bring with them two elfling twins, which they have adopted as their own. Elros and Elrond are charming children despite speaking very little Quenya. I would like to invite you to our home so that you may meet them properly and reacquaint yourself to Maitimo and Makalaurë. I only ask that you come alone as I do not think it wise to overwhelm the children with too many people.
I look forward to your visit,
Sincerely and with love,
Fëanáro .
His grandsons had returned? From hundreds of years in the future!? With elflings in tow!? It was insane. It was so insane, in fact, that it might actually be true. Fëanor had been devastated when Maitimo and Makalaurë had vanished. Even if he was recovered from the loss so soon and in higher spirits, he would never play a prank so cruel. No, as improbable as their return may have seemed, all other explanations for the letter were entirely impossible.
Finwë glanced through his remaining paperwork to ensure that nothing would require his immediate attention and rushed to his chambers to pack what he would need.
“Finwë? Where are you going?” Indis had heard the disturbance from their room and entered to find her husband laying out enough clothing for several days.
Finwë looked up. “I have just received a letter from Fëanáro. He says that Maitimo and Makalaurë are returned to us. With children no less. I apologize for the short notice, melissë, but I am going to call upon them.”
Indis blinked, surprised by such important news being shared so brusquely. “That is good… they were always such sweet boys and I am sure they will be good fathers. Who is going with you? Findekáno perhaps? He was close to Maitimo if I recall correctly.”
“I am going alone. Fëanáro believes that too many people would overwhelm them and, as I have not seen them in so long and have not met the children at all, I cannot dispute his judgment.” Finwë turned back to his packing, intent on leaving as soon as possible so as to arrive before sundown. He paused as he felt delicate arms encircle his waist.
“I wish you safe travels, sorna venno . Enjoy yourself.” Finwë turned and pressed a kiss to her forehead.