Fanfic And I Wove The Light of Luarelin in Your Midnight Tresses

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

To My Findekáno



“Atya?”
“Yes, little Bean?”
“I don't want to put on my circlet.”

Nolofinwë looked away from the seeing glass to glance down at a miserable looking elfling who was holding the silver object in his hand like it had personally offended him.
“And why is that, pray tell my prince?”

The little boy pouted, cheeks blooming a red color that spoke of shame and embarrassment. Nolofinwë wondered why.
Quiet, unintelligible noises came from Findekáno’s bowed head, and Nolofinwë smiled gently.

“What was that, love?”
“It…I can't run well when I'm wearing it. It's heavy and annoying. Besides, it doesn't suit my hair like it does yours. If it were gold–”
And then he clamped his mouth shut, looking anywhere but at him.

Nolofinwë sighed and knelt down. If only Noldor were not such sticklers for tradition, then maybe his son wouldn't look so mortified for even daring to wish for something as superficial as a golden circlet.

But they were not the High King, or the Crown Prince and his family, and they so happened to be Noldor and had to be careful for even the supposed disrespect towards his hostile brother could cause a stir.

“Hey now, it's all right. You don't have to wear it if you don't want to.”

A pair of blue-grey orbs filled with hope looked up at him all of a sudden and Findekáno almost smiled before his face fell again.
“But…Ammë said that I'm a prince. That I should look proper.”

Something shiny and golden called to him like a beacon out of the corner of his eyes. He looked at the top of the dresser where the most recent gift from his mother lay. A pile of golden ribbons and a light gold chain, meant to be sown into the robes he meant to order for his begotten day.

Not anymore, though, because Nolofinwë might just have found the loophole of leaving everyone, especially his little boy, satisfied.

“I think I might have an idea.”

___________


“Wow, Finno. Could you be any more vain than you already are? Leave your luscious locks alone. We have an orc pack to kill and no time to spare.”

Celegorm’s taunting didn't seem to have the desired effect on his cousin, which was for him to get off his butt and kick some orcish butts instead. If possible, the hands woving the golden ribbons into his hair seemed to have slowed down more even just as the frown lines between his eyebrows appeared.

“Well if you tried lending a hand instead of standing there and complaining, we'd have been on our merry way already.”

Celegorm rolled his eyes at the snippy comment. Maybe the little guy wasn't as unbothered after all.

“What makes you think I wouldn't do something to make you look stupid?”
“Because you want to hunt the orcs, right?”
The underlying threat was not lost to the son of Fëanor. Celegorm rolled his eyes and walked over.
“Move your hands then, little rat.” And he began braiding.

Findekáno smirked but did as he was told.
“Is that any way to speak to your Crown Prince?”
“Generally? Yes.”

It got a chuckle out of his cousin, and Celegorm almost smiled.

The golden ribbons were smooth under his fingers, but not as smooth as the dark tresses he was holding and occasionally pulling playfully just to be himself. Findekáno didn't seem to mind.
“Why did you start wearing these, anyways? I don't remember you ever mentioning it.”

“It was Atya’s idea, to be honest. You know how I used to hate circlets when I was younger. Well, he came up with a way for me to not embarrass myself and be comfortable at the same time.”
“Are you sure you weren't just secretly jealous of my hair?”
“I'm always jealous of your hair. I don't know how you manage to keep it this presentable without taking a comb through every once in a while.”
“I don't know if I should be offended or flattered.”
“You know me, I always try to see the bright side of things.”

___________

“Candy!”
“No, Laurë. Not candy. Let it go, please.”
“No, candy!”

Curvo snickered, unable to control himself as he watched the blonde toddler in Findekáno’s arms try to reach out for the golden ribbons in his cousin's hair but to no avail, causing his face to scrunch up a little, but he didn't cry.

“I told you to stop wearing them. They're stupid, and it's only a matter of time before someone mistakes your head for something edible which, to be fair, it technically is. If not Laurë, then some wolf is going to eat them.”

“Wolfie can eat your hair candies but I can't? Not fair!”
“No, it can't! And they're not candi– Curvo! You're not helping.”
“Good, because it wasn't my intention.”

Findekáno let out a frustrated sigh before settling the little boy on his feet. Laurefindelë stomped his foot on the ground, looking up at the miserable looking Nolofinwian with a pout.
“Ammë says it's not nice to not share your candies with others, just so you know.”

“Yes, Findekáno, that's not really nice of you.”
“Curvo, please, don't add wood to this fire.”
Curvo smiled slightly, raising his eyebrows.
“I'm a smith, Finno. That's basically in the job description.”
“You're also a cousin. Is tormenting your cousin in the job description?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
“...No.”

Laurë whined.
“Candies…”
“Ribbons, Laurë. They're ribbons. Not candies.”
“He doesn't seem to care.”

The young man with the golden ribbons only sighed.

_________


“I used to be able to help you with that.”
Fingon looked up upon hearing his voice, his confused face morphing into understanding and then a sympathetic one.
Maedhros ducked his head so he wouldn't have to look at him anymore. The look in his eyes resembled pity too much for him to be comfortable with.

“Maybe…maybe you still can.”
This made him look up. Fingon’s eyes were warm and comforting. He sat up from the seat in front of the seeing glass and walked towards him, sitting down on the bed beside him.
“...How?”
Maedhros’ voice was hesitant. He didn't dare hope for anything these days, even something as simple as a braid he used to do for his little cousin. His brother.
Fingon smiled and turned around and his back was facing him.

“Here. I'll hold the ends. I think we can make it work.”

They in fact did make it work, if you could call the mess in front of him that. The single braid was messy in every way it was possible, the golden ribbon and some strands of hair pulled in every lock there was. Maedhros didn't know if he should cry or laugh. He mostly felt numb and defeated.

“Well, how does it look?”
“... better than I was expecting.”
Fingon hummed thoughtfully, and he didn't have to look at him to know he was smiling.
“I take it.”


_____________


“You know what could help?”
“Thank you, but I'll pass.”
“Oh, come on cousin Káno! You're telling me you don't want to keep your hair away from your face so you could focus better on playing your lyre?”
“I'm not buying what you're selling.”

A handful of light blue and tinged with silver ribbons were pushed in front of his face, causing him to let out a long-suffering sigh. Dear Eru, he would take a Tyelko high on sugar over an insistent Findekáno any day.

“Are you sure?”

Gritting his teeth, Makalaurë put down the lyre gently on his side table and turned ever so slowly towards the source of his annoyance.
“If I let you braid my hair, will you let us continue with our lesson?”

Findekáno grinned in a way Makalaurë was all too familiar with. The poor kid used to be so well-behaved before he started hanging out with Tyelko.
He was holding a brush in his hand.

“Only if you let me brush your hair first.”
Makalaurë groaned.

_____________

“Atya!”
“Yes, little star?”
Ereinion jumped on the bed beside his father as he ever so slowly opened his eyes. His voice was groggy with sleep, but still gentle as it ever was when he addressed him. His mother was fast asleep in his arms still, and Ereinion quietened down, trying to avoid waking her up if he could. None of his parents were getting the rest they needed, he had noticed. If he could help it, he would have waited out his father too, but his excitement had been too much to contain.

It was his Atar's begotten day, and his Hair had prepared a big feast for the night, and a big family breakfast in the morning. His nannies had already dressed him in a nice tunic and had braided his hair neatly, and it was only fair for his father to get the same treatment. He had asked his father last night if he could help him with his golden ribbons and chains, and he had agreed with a big smile.

They didn't get to spend much time together these days, so perhaps his father also had been excited for their morning like Ereinion had been.

“Are you here for my early morning hair-dressing session, my prince?”

Ereinion giggled before slapping a hand on his mouth, sending a careful glance towards his mother and glad to find her still fast asleep.

His father made a displeased sound. Ereinion looked at him, only to find him frowning. It wasn't a real angry face, though. Ereinion recognized it as his father's signature pretend face whenever he tried to play with Ereinion.

“That wouldn't do.”
“What?”
His Atar stood from the bed slowly, also mindful of his tired wife, and walked towards the dresser where the seeing glass was standing. He pulled open a drawer, rummaging through it before Ereinion heard an ‘A-ha!’, and his father pulled out a handful of his own favorite silk ribbons.

“Now, it would look …out of place, if you weren't wearing your very own golden ribbons now, wouldn't it?”
His father was smiling, and slowly, Ereinion’s confused frown melted in an excited smile, a look of understanding dawning upon his face.
“For me?”
“For you.”