Family Day
by Eärillë
Author’s
Notes:
I hope this little peek into Fëanor’s sons is not too far off the mark of the prompt.
I could not think of anything else when I saw the challenge.
By the way, I never saw the evidence or attested account of this holiday being
celebrated in Arda, especially by the Elves. It was just my imagination, set in
my universe.
The story is dedicated to Dawn Felagund, by whose story “Another Man’s Cage” I am inspired; and also to FireFly07, whose two birthdays have passed without my fulfilling a promise to her to give her a birthday gift…
oOoOo
Laurellin had just bloomed, sending a golden hue into the silvery sky. Birds chirped merrily from high up in the trees, welcoming the new day, while a gentle breeze stirred the grass and foliage in the small orchard.
The peaceful air of this nook of the King’s Palace in Tirion did not last long, though. Sounds of laughter and curses soon drifted from the direction of the garden’s gates, approaching in a fast rate, breaking the peace of the nature. Birds flew into the brightening sky in alarm, twittering noisily.
And, reclining under an apple tree with a small harp in hand, Makalaurë sighed resignedly. His peace was about to be broken too. And here he thought he was free of his little brothers at least until the morning truly began…
It did not better his mood at all that, perched on a bough above him, Maitimo sniggered impishly, saying, “Give them chance this once, brother. The Valar have promised Eldamar a good weather all day for our sakes. And you know how Atar despises today of all days…”
It was easy for him, thought Makalaurë with some resentment; after all, everyone – including their brothers – fawned and obeyed Maitimo, almost like they did their father Fëanáro. But he could not refute Maitimo’s second argument, as they were themselves hidden here, in a small odd chunk of the palace, just to avoid the rants and foul mood of their father. Maitimo had tempered it with his typical easy chuckles, but that elder brother of his could not hide the note of uneasiness seeping into his voice. And Makalaurë agreed with the sentiment, too.
Today was Family Day, according to the customs of the Eldar; dated as far back as the Awakening, some said. And of course, every family must gather with each other and celebrate it together, as per usual. – Makalaurë could remember their grandfather Finwë telling himself and Maitimo when they had been very small, that the original purpose of the celebration was to tighten familial bonds even as the fallen Vala Melkor had been taking Elves left and right for himself. But now it had become a tideous ceremony for some, and an excuse for slagging on work and having boystorous parties for others. – And their father absolutely hated it, on the account that he had to mingle with his half-siblings from his father’s second marriage.
– The unfortunate harp twanged angrily when Makalaurë half threw it aside to the bumpy roots of the apple tree. It was not a moment too soon, as he suddenly found his lap being jumped into by two yelling little children. He groaned from the impact. “Brothers… You are no light burden!”
Tyelkormo sniggered mischievously, much – too much – like Maitimo had. And Carnistir, now climbing Makalaurë’s gangly adolescent frame using his braids as anchor (“Brother!” Makalaurë yelped.), imitated him… Thoughts of playful vengeance entered Makalaurë’s mind, then, and with a cry he attacked his little brothers with his prized weapon: tickles on most ticklish spots. They ended up rolling around on the grass with abandonment, laughing uproariously – as Tyelkormo and Carnistir gave back just as good. (The harp, fortunately, was safe… for now.)
And from a spot above the haphazard, messy tangle of three boys, Maitimo chortled. His book was forgotten on his lap, as he gazed down fondly at his younger brothers. Family Day, indeed. To think that he was blessed to witness this odd display of affection for eternity…
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