Chapter Text
One:
Feanor had a new baby brother.
He was called Fingolfin. He was pink, squishy and wrinkly.
Feanor was not impressed. He would have much rather had a puppy. Or a kitten.
Now the baby was three weeks old. He did not do much. He cried, and drank milk.
Feanor was sitting on a settee in the parlour. It was cold outside and raining too. Feanor watched the raindrops racing each other down the window. Then he turned his attention towards the fire, burning in the grate. There was a guard in front of it. Feanor didn’t like the fireguard. He didn’t like to see the fire trapped behind it. He had asked his father and Indis if he could move it. But they both said no. They said the guard was there to keep him safe.
The parlour door opened and Finwe and Indis entered. They were laughing and Indis was carrying a wrapped bundle. Feanor knew that baby Fingolfin was inside. He pressed himself against the settee, trying to become invisible.
Alas, it did not work. Finwe and Indis went right over to him. Feanor peeped out from behind a cushion, and they smiled at him.
“There you are Feanor,” Finwe said. “What are you doing, sitting in here all on your own?”
“I’m watching the raindrops,” Feanor replied. “And the fire”.
“Well, as long as you are alright,” Finwe said, ruffling Feanor’s dark hair.
Feanor nodded. His glanced towards the bundle that Indis was holding. He could see the top of Fingolfin’s head poking out. He had a small tuft of dark hair too.
“Would you like to hold him, dear?” Indis asked.
“No,” Feanor said at once. “No, thank you,” he then added, in case he was scolded for being rude.
“That’s quite alright,” Indis said, not sounding upset. “I shall put him in his cradle then”. There was a cradle in the corner of the parlour; carved from light wood and filled with soft blankets. She walked towards it. Feanor watched, wringing his hands with indecision.
“...I’ll hold him if you want me to,” Feanor suddenly called out.
Finwe covered his mouth, as if to hide a smile. Indis chuckled and returned to Feanor. “Put out your arms then,” she said. Feanor did so, and Indis gently placed the bundle on Feanor’s lap.
Feanor looked at baby Fingolfin curiously. He was still squishy, with ears like a kitten and a turned up nose. He smelt of baby powder. Feanor held him carefully, making sure to support his head.
And then, Fingolfin awoke. He blinked sleepily, and stared at Feanor out of bright grey eyes. Then he smiled; his little face lighting up with glee.
“Oh!” Feanor whispered. And he returned the smile, not even minding if his father or Indis were watching.
Two:
It was a quiet, peaceful evening. Feanor was curled up his bed, just drifting off to sleep. Until something interrupted him.
That something was the sound of his door opening. Then the sound of soft feet, padding across the carpet. And then, his bedcovers were pulled back and somebody soft and warm clambered into bed with him.
“Fingolfin, what are you doing?” Feanor glared at the little elfling. “This is my bed”.
Fingolfin stared up at his brother with large eyes. “I had a scary dream”.
“Well go and wake up Father and Aunt Indis then”.
“No,” said Fingolfin, and with that, he cuddled up to Feanor, pushing his head under his chin.
Feanor lay there, shocked at his brother’s boldness and lack of manners. He wasn’t quite sure what to do now. He pulled the covers back up, deciding that they may as well both be warm, while Feanor tried to think how to make Fingolfin leave.
Fingolfin made a little contented noise, no longer bothered by his nightmare. Feanor closed his eyes, deciding to let Fingolfin stay for just five minutes.
Five minutes later, Feanor was asleep; with one arm draped across Fingolfin’s back and his other hand holding Fingolfin’s hand under the covers.
Three:
Now, Feanor and Fingolfin both had a new baby brother. This one was called Finarfin. He had been pink and squidgy when he was born. But now he was five weeks old; he looked a little more interesting.
Finarfin was settled in his cot, in the parlour. The cot was very similar to Fingolfin’s old cot, except the blankets were yellow, instead of blue. Finarfin was singing to himself in baby speak, quite content to watch his bunny mobile above him.
Feanor leaned over the cot, checking to make sure nobody was watching before he smiled at his new brother. Finarfin was somewhat appealing, even if Aunt Indis was his mum. He had a fluff of blond hair and round, blue eyes. He gurgled at Feanor and waved his chubby arms around.
“Well, aren’t you...golden,” Feanor said. Finarfin giggled and blew a bubble at him.
Feanor felt somebody tugging on his sleeve. Looking round, he saw that Fingolfin had wandered into the parlour. “Come and play with me,” he said. “Finarfin’s boring, he can’t play any games yet”.
“He’s just a baby. He’ll be able to play when he’s older,” Feanor said. He followed Fingolfin towards the door. “Don’t you like him?” he asked, a little grin on his face.
“I do like him,” Fingolfin said. “But I like you more!”
Feanor turned pink.
“You’re more fun to play with,” Fingolfin continued. “I want to be just like you, Feanor. And do everything you do!”
Feanor snorted. “Don’t be silly,” he said. “You can’t do everything that I do!”
“Oh, but why not?” a dismayed Fingolfin asked.
“Because there are some things that only I can do,” Feanor explained.
“What are those?”
Feanor thought hard. He thought about his best friend; a pretty girl with curly red hair and freckles. He blushed.
“Well, I’m going to marry Nerdanel when I’m old enough”.
“Ow, no!” Fingolfin screwed up his nose. “I don’t want to do that. I’m never going to get married!”
Feanor gazed at Fingolfin. His eyes gleamed.
“You’ll want to when you’re older,” he said.
Fingolfin shook his head. “I will not!”
“Yes, you will!” Feanor insisted, a smirk on his face. “You’ll fall in love with a girl, and want to marry her”.
“No!”
“And give her flowers. And hug her”.
“NO!”
Feanor grinned at his indignant little brother, before going in for the kill. “And you’ll want to kiss her!”
At this, Fingolfin gave a yell of rage and launched himself at Feanor. Feanor roared with laughter, as Fingolfin appeared to be trying to twist his arm behind his back, while wrapping his legs around Feanor’s knees.
“Take that back! Take it back now!” Fingolfin squealed.
Feanor couldn’t reply, as he was laughing too much. Fingolfin tried to get a better grip, but instead, accidentally punched Feanor in the stomach. Feanor grunted and staggered backwards. Fingolfin released him at once, dismayed.
“Oh no, I’m really sorry!” he cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt you”.
“It’s alright,” Feanor said, rubbing his stomach. “You’re not big enough to punch hard”.
“But I was still too rough,” Fingolfin worried. “Should I kiss it better?”
“Very well then,” Feanor replied. He rather liked seeing his little brother so remorseful.
Fingolfin nodded and undid the buttons on Feanor’s shirt. He put his head down and blew a raspberry on Feanor’s stomach. Feanor gave a yell and Fingolfin fled, shrieking with laughter.
“Horrible brother!” Feanor shouted after him. Finarfin cooed happily from his cradle. “Traitor!” Feanor scolded the elfling, before racing out of the room after Fingolfin.