gondolindrim | Father's up to something...

Fëanor: *studying a book on modern weaponry*

Maglor: *catching up with Fëanor is still not his favourite thing, but knocks on the door*

Fëanor: Come in!

Maglor: *slips in; has left the boys with Maedhros* Hello?

Fëanor: *puts his book down* Kanafinwë! *goes to greet him*

Maglor: Hello, father.

Fëanor: An unexpected visit.

Maglor: *half shrug in concession* You're not in your workshop?

Fëanor: No, I'm reading. Come in... would you like a drink?

Maglor: A drink would be welcome.

Fëanor: *leads him to the living room and pours him some brandy* So what brings you here?

Maglor: *damn, was hoping to spy on what he was reading; takes a sip of brandy* Just seeing how you were doing. *and what you're up to*

Fëanor: *hides a grin* Checking up on me?

Maglor: *half shrugs, taking another sip of brandy to avoid answering outright*

Fëanor: *knew it!*

Maglor: So. What're you working on?

Fëanor: Oh just some jewelry. *at the moment, while he researches*

Maglor: *skeptical but* Taking a break to read?

Fëanor: Sometimes I do.

Maglor: *toys with his glass, watching the liquid swirl* I do have something interesting to tell you...

Fëanor: *perks up* Do you?

Maglor: Yes.

Fëanor: *sighs and waits*

Maglor: I have two children living with me.

Fëanor: Did you recently acquire them?

Maglor: Yes. Very recently. * recently, and yet so long ago; takes another drink*

Fëanor: Why?

Maglor: Why? Well...they're mine.

Fëanor: You have children? *didn't notice this in the future history; however, must be admitted, he grew bored with parts that didn't contain silmarils, his awesomeness, or weapons*

Maglor: Well, adopted children. *figured Fëanor wouldn't have read up on the history well enough to remember* Elrond and Elros.

Fëanor: Hmmm, hmmm. Sounds familiar...

Maglor: *arches an eyebrow* Been reading history, then?

Fëanor: I do. Sometimes.

Maglor: *nods vaguely* Well. They have both shown up here, as children.

Fëanor: Small children? *intrigued*

Maglor: Yes. About five.

Fëanor: I would like to meet them.

Maglor: *arches both his eyebrows* You would?

Fëanor: Very much. *small children make excellent minions* Grandchildren!

Maglor: *small smile* Well, I'll bring them by sometime.

Fëanor: Soon. Are you no longer living with Nelyafinwë?

Maglor: I am, but I go back and forth between there and my office. *which is an apartment, but that's a secret between himself, Maedhros, Turgon, and now the twins*

Fëanor: He knows these children as well? *does vaguely remember things*

Maglor: *holds back a sigh* He doesn't. He would have done.

Fëanor: Oh, of course. He doesn't have those memories.

Maglor: Right. It will be hard on Elros and Elrond, I think.

Fëanor: Does he know they're here?

Maglor: Maedhros? Yes, he knows!

Fëanor: Perhaps he can cook us something for a family dinner and we can all meet them.

Maglor: *nods* I'll talk to him about it!

Fëanor: Good good.

Maglor: I suppose I should go.

Fëanor: You could stay. We could discuss other things!

Maglor: *willing enough, but* Like what?

Fëanor: Perhaps you can tell me the gossip in the city.

Maglor: Gossip? Father!

Fëanor: You're tied into things.

Maglor: *wracks his brains for gossip; can only think of two noteworthy things, both of which he is unwilling to divulge to his father* I sit around and compose things. Are you still seeing that ginger boy?

Fëanor: Yes, but I didn't ask you for gossip about me.

Maglor: *damn! takes a drink, finishing off his glass* Umm... Itarillë appears to be dating a human boy?

Fëanor: On purpose?

Maglor: Yes on purpose.

Fëanor: *sips his brandy* And what else?

Maglor: *shares a few very tame pieces of gossip* Honestly, father, I might be less of a hermit than you are, but hardly less in a world of my own.

Fëanor: Oh, you seem to be much more out there than I am. Is Turukano still seeing that human woman?

Maglor: I'm not sure! He might be.

Fëanor: Hmm. *mental note*

Maglor: *would pour himself more brandy, but does not need the lowered inhibition* Tyelkormo is very happy with Ecthelion.

Fëanor: That is very interesting. They do not seem a likely match.

Maglor: Not at all! I thought it was a diversion, but...

Fëanor: I thought Turkafinwë liked women. At least kidnapping them.

Maglor: *brief scowl* I thought so too. Apparently both. But Ecthelion is a good man.

Fëanor: He does seem to be. Although....

Maglor: Although?

Fëanor: Perhaps a little too tight with Turukano.

Maglor: *casual shrug* He is Captain of the Guard.

Fëanor: Mmm. Turukano, though... unpredictable.

Maglor: *in another situation would smirk; too right* I suppose so.

Fëanor: And quite... odd.

Maglor: I suppose so.

Fëanor: Naming everything the same! *snorts*

Maglor: *grins a bit* There is that.

Fëanor: He's not right.

Maglor: Mmm.

Fëanor: My fault, I suppose.

Maglor: *confused* Your fault?

Fëanor: Oh, the ship burning business. Left him to walk across the ice. He bears a grudge. *says this casually*

Maglor: Ah. Yes, that would be your fault.

Fëanor: And yours. It's odd who he bears ill-will to, and who he doesn't.

Maglor: *grits his teeth*

Fëanor: *shrugs* Just strange.

Maglor: And here I thought it was down to how much he might remind you of your brother.

Fëanor: *arches an eyebrow* I was talking about his enmity, not my own.

Maglor: I know.

Fëanor: *actually feels like he would welcome his brother here; doesn't quite know who he is without him*

Maglor: I should go.

Fëanor: Well, if you must.

Maglor: *the conversation has strayed into far too dangerous territory* I'm afraid I must. It was good to see you.

Fëanor: Always good to see you. Bring the grandchildren by!

Maglor: *stands, nodding* I shall!

Fëanor: *walks him to the door*

Maglor: And you keep out of trouble...

Fëanor: Oh of course. *planning trouble no matter what*

Maglor: *figures* I'll come by soon. *whatever soon means to him*

Fëanor: Take care. *wonders what he's hiding*

Maglor: *hurries home to rescue Maedhros*

Father is up to something, I know it. I need to find out what.