Beyond Canon

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No one searched harder or more intensely for little Argon than his brother Turgon did. “Check around every tree and under every bush,” he instructed as he led Maedhros and Fingon through the garden. He himself was on his hands and knees in hopes of getting the perspective of his baby brother.

Behind him, Maedhros and Fingon walked down the path, each of them scanning a different side. “Do you really think Celegorm hid him?” asked Maedhros.

“Well, if he was the one watching him and no one else saw what happened, then maybe he did,” reasoned Fingon. “Argon can only crawl right now. In the time he had, there is no way he could have reached the woods. He might be here; he might be in the house. Did anyone check to see if he went under the porch?”

“Under the porch! Brilliant idea!” Turgon leaped up and ran back to the house.

Once they were alone again, Maedhros motioned for them to move off the path into the actual garden. “I do not think that Celegorm did anything.”

“He hates me,” stated Fingon. “I would not put it past him to do this.”

“Celegorm can be unkind, but he is not evil,” defended Maedhros. “He likes your sister too much to do something that would make her upset.”


“Do you have another sister I do not know of?” teased Maedhros. “Yes, Aredhel. I am surprised you have not noticed it before.”

“Well... I suppose, now that you mention it, there are times when he seems to be more interested in her than in hunting when we are out.” Fingon nodded. “Yes, I can see it now.”

“It would be marvelous if they could be married. Then our families would link together twice.” Maedhros slipped his hand into Fingon’s. “Three times if you count our fathers, but I do not think they even consider that.”

“Which is what makes it so hard for us to even be together,” Fingon reminded his cousin.

Maedhros bowed his head and nodded. “I know. Things will get better.”

“When?” wondered Fingon.

The elder glanced around, and then pushed Fingon up against a tree. “How about now?” he asked with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Maedhros, we need to find my brother.”

Roving hands slid around to grope Fingon’s backside. “You said it yourself; Argon is too young to get very far. He is probably under the porch giggling at Turgon’s attempts to fetch him. Your brother is safe; so, kiss me.”

The logical part of Fingon’s mind told him that he should resume the search, but the opportunity was much too inviting. His own hands threaded through his lover’s silky red hair and pulled his head down. As they kissed, Maedhros began to grind against Fingon, and they shifted between moans and gasps, forgetting the rest of the world.

“Just what do the two of you think you are doing?!”

At first, the pair thought that Turgon had returned. When they disengaged from one another, absolute horror colored Fingon’s face to see his father, uncle, and grandfather approaching them. Maedhros stepped away at first, but when he saw that Fingolfin meant to step forward and yank his son away, Maedhros took the initiative and pulled Fingon close to him. His arms wrapped protectively around Fingon’s waist. There was hardly any way to disguise their actions, so Maedhros boldly said, “We were doing exactly what it looked like we were doing, and as soon as we have a chance, we will be doing it again.”

“Although we appreciate your honesty,” said Feanor, “this is not the appropriate time for what you were doing.”

“There will never be an appropriate time for what they were doing!” shouted Fingolfin. “Here we have been worried about your brother, and you have been... with him! Disgusting! You are very lucky that your brother has been found.”

Fingon let out a sigh of relief. “Thank the Valar,” he said.

“And no thanks to you,” added Fingolfin. “Come; we are going home. Your mother has had enough of a fright, and there is no point in staying.”

“I wish you would reconsider, Fingolfin. It will not be much of a celebration with you and your family missing,” said Finwe.

“Father, I am sorry, but I must tend to these... recent events.” Fingolfin pointed at his eldest son, who was still snuggly nestled in Maedhros’ arms. “You are to come with me. Now.”

Fingon hesitated as his father turned around. His answer came softly, but with conviction. “No.”

It seemed easier to say to his father’s back, for when Fingolfin turned and asked him to repeat his answer, Fingon shuddered. Despite his fear, he stood his ground. “I said no,” he said again. “You will have to return home without me. I am staying here.”

“That is not acceptable,” said Fingolfin angrily. “You and I need to have a talk, and we are not about to do that here. Now, we are going to return home, and that is final.”

Fingon took a deep breath and gripped Maehdros’ hands with his own. His lover gave him a gentle squeeze around the middle, as if passing on some courage to keep going. “I know you are upset with me, father, but I am an adult now and have been for some time. If you do not approve of my choice of mate, I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do to change who or what I am. I know I have disappointed you, but I need to find what makes me happy, and right now, what makes me happy is being with Maitimo.”

Fingolfin looked numb, and was at a loss for words. Finwe took the opportunity to speak. “I think we should all return to the house. There is no doubt we all wish to thank Argon’s rescuer.”

Feanor made a motion toward the path, and followed after Fingolfin and his father. Slowly, Maedhros let go of Fingon and kissed his brow. “I am proud of you,” he whispered as he took hold of his lover’s hand and walked with him back to the house.

Fingon smiled and when they caught up to his uncle asked, “Who found Argon?”

Feanor rolled his eyes and said, “Melkor.”
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