“Enjoying yourself?” asked Maedhros.
Fingon stood still and stared straight ahead, drink held with both hands. “I promised Ada not to do anything to embarrass him,” answered Fingon.
“I will take that to mean you are bored out of your mind.”
“Please, please do nothing that is going to cause a scene.”
“I promise not to do anything,” answered Maedhros, his voice barely a whisper.
“Thank you, love.” But Fingon spoke too soon.
“As for saying something—“
“Oh, you wicked—“
Maedhros cut Fingon off, leaning in close to say, “I want to lick your eyelashes.”
--
“What is going on over there?” huffed Fingolfin. His eldest son had just burst out laughing for no apparent reason in the midst of Turgon’s wedding reception.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Fingon, Maedhros, Fingolfin