FicWad

Series/Sequel: Prequel to "Full Brother in Heart". Can be read as a stand-alone.

Disclaimer: They belong to their creator(s). So, not mine.

A/N:

The equivalents form Quenya, for the names and the word "atar", are:

atar=father
Feanaro=Feanor
Maitimo=Maedhros
Findekano=Fingon
Macalaure=Maglor
Carnistir=Caranthir
Tyelko(Tyelkormo)=Celegorm

The door creacked, making Feanaro's hands still their movement. His back stiffened and all of his senses became focused on the newcomer, making him wonder who else had abandoned the sweet arms of slumber for some task or another in the forge, at such an ungodly hour of the morning. Despite his curiosity, the Master Craft-smith did not turn around to face the intruder, who's soft steps announced that he or she was closing the distance between them. Feanaro remained bent above his work-table, where he had been working on resetting some emeralds into a delicate necklace. A single lamp was lit above the table, giving Feanaro just enough light to see the minuscule details and errors in the piece of jewelery he was focusing on.

Since the intruder had let himself in without knocking or speaking a word of apology for the interruption, Feanaro assumed that his visitor could only be one of his sons. And the intense gaze that he felt scrutinizing him up and down, in the awkward silence, told Feanaro that his companion was Maitimo.

"Good morning, my son." he said, smiling and relaxing.

"Good morning, Atar. I saw a light in the forge and I assumed that you are here, so... I hope I am not interrupting." Maitimo replied, leaning against a work-bench, eyes riveted to the form of his father. The scant light cast long shadows behind Feanaro, who's simple clad body obscured what he had been working on before the interruption.

Maitimo noticed that his father's hair was tied loosely with a strip of cloth, his broad shoulders were covered with a grey tunic and his long, slender legs were clad in black leggings. Doeskin boots and an apron completed his father's quite plain appearance, if whoever saw him thought of him as High Prince of the Noldor. But Maitimo knew very well that there was nothing plain about his father.

Appraising Feanaro with knowing eyes, the young Elf felt himself stirred, admiring his father's perfect behind as Feanaro was still slightly bent over his work. Maitimo smiled, biting his lower lip and willing himself to remain where he stood, though the desire to approach Feanaro and wrap him in a strong embrace made waiting very difficult for him.

"You are never interrupting, Maitimo." his father told him, turning slightly so that Maitimo could see what he was working on. The corner of his eye caught his son's tall, lean frame, reclining casually against an empty work-bench. He noticed the loose leggings and shirt, made of silk the color of cream, that Maitimo must have slept in, though there were few creases on the soft, thin fabric. Feanaro did not miss the fact that his son's fiery hair was unbound, and probably uncombed also, flowing freely on his shoulders and down to the small of his back. Maitimo wore no cloak and only a pair of light shoes that one would use indoors. Some of the laces of his shirt had come undone and the fabric had slipped on Maitimo's right shoulder, exposing the smooth skin beneath. A fine, delicate mithril chain, adorned with a pendant of complicated design around a single ruby, rested on Maitimo's chest-the only piece of jewelery that the beautiful prince ever wore.

Feanaro would have allowed himself a few moments of reliving the joy and pride he had felt the day his son had come of age and he had given him the pendant... among other gifts Maitimo had received that day. He would have closed his fingers around the necklace of similar design that he had shown Maitimo and never taken off, since that day, but Feanaro's hands were occupied with the small tool and the unfinished piece of jewelery he was trying to fix. And the enigmatic smile on his son's face did not leave much room for slipping into the realm of memory, either.

"Good. I feared that I would find you engrossed in some complicated project of yours that had wrenched you from sleep and brought you here in the middle of the night." Maitimo answered.

"No. 'Tis no complicated project this morning, I'm afraid. I have not been visited by such inspiration of late." Feanaro sighed.

"I should not be saying it, but I am secretly pleased by this. You have spent more time with us and we have enjoyed every minute in your company." Maitimo said, with a loving smile. "But I could also see you growing frustrated and I would rather you were content with working on something new and extraordinary, than getting bored by the lack of something to keep your mind occupied." he added.

"Ah, my son... If you are suggesting that I could ever grow tired of spending time with my wonderful family, then think better of it. I fear it is the other way around and I am the one whom you might be growing tired of. No, no, before you say anything, I have seen how restless Macalaure is when I ask him to let me hear him practice. Or how flustered young Findekano becomes when I join the two of you for his lessons." Feanaro said, absentmindedly correcting a small flaw in the setting of an emerald, not having put aside the small tool and the necklace while speaking.

Maitimo stifled a chuckle and resorted to clearing his throat, thus pointing out that his father had forgotten to mention something.

"Yes, Maitimo, I know. I have also become a distraction to you, during your lessons." Feanaro added, with a feigned sigh.

The young Elf could not hold back the soft laughter that rang pleasantly through the spacious area of the forge and main workshop.

"You are indeed guilty of that, Atar." he said, mirth evident in his voice.

"Which means that I must get an idea, some sort of revelation which would bring me back to work and away from my easily distracted family members." Feanaro answered with a wink.

"Is that why you have denied yourself sleep this night and you have come here to tweak on some trinkets?" Maitimo asked.

"No, I did not deny myself sleep. Your little brother did, waking me up with his wails. I swear, Maitimo, I am beginning to truly fear Carnistir's nightmares. I used to think that he is plagued only by childhood fears, but no child in the Blessed Realm would dream such awful things so often."

The was much concern in Feanaro's voice and Maitimo knew full well that his little brother was haunted by dark dreams and visions which had chilled him to the bone, upon hearing the few words that the little one had ever spoken about them. Soothing the poor child was not enough anymore.

"Perhaps we should speak to grandfather about this. He might know more of such things or, at least, someone who can help."

"I have been thinking about it, too. It's terrible to be a father and find yourself helpless while your child is suffering." Feanaro said, a pained look on his face, as he finally abandoned his work and turned to meet Maitimo's eyes.

"It is no easier to be his brother and have no means of protecting Carnistir. Does he rest now?" Maitimo voiced his own concern.

"He does. I have left him sleeping in his little bed, but I could not go back and rest. So I came here to busy my hands and let my mind wander." Feanaro answered, a small smile ghosting on his face, for a second.

"What are you working on?" Maitimo rushed to change the subject, unwilling to let Feanaro worry about anything. It was not what he had come to the forge for...

"Ah, just some piece of jewelery one of the apprentices has left on my work-table yesterday." Feanaro answered with a shrug. "I was fixing the setting for some of the gems."

"So it is faulty, then..."

"Parts of it are." Feanaro said, rather intrigued by the look on his son's face. Maitimo appeared to know something, but not the way to express it.

"Which one of the apprentices left it?"

"The dark-haired one, with those strange black eyes. She has gone to visit her family and asked me to take a look at her work for when she returns. Why?" Feanaro inquired.

"Well... she has been leaving faulty work for you to mend quite often, think you not?"

Feanaro frowned, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, after hearing his son's question. "Yes, she has." he said, recalling all the things he had fixed and all the lectures he had delivered to said apprentice.

"'Tis strange, since the girl struck me as very talented and skilled." Maitimo continued, hinting rather than openly speaking his mind.

"She is skilled and talented. I would not have admitted her to work as my apprentice, otherwise. And it does surprise me that the quality of her projects is far from what it used to be. Perhaps the girl has some problems or she is distracted by something... In any case, thank you for pointing this out. I will speak to her when she returns and find out what the matter is." Feanaro finished, staring at Maitimo's expression.

The young Elf shook his head and cast his father an almost pitiful look.

"You truly are oblivious, then." he said, wincing at the indignant look that his words had earned him.

"What do you mean? Speak, Maitimo. I am in no mood for riddles and hints." Feanaro demanded.

"All right, but I thought you had realized this. I believe your apprentice is faulting her work on purpose, so she can get more of your attention." Maitimo replied.

"But that is foolish. Would she not earn more attention and praise if she worked to the measure of her talent? I do not understand why she would lessen her skill and what she believes she could gain from it." Feanaro said, shaking his head and wondering what was truly going on behind his oblivious back.

"I do not see what her gain from this might be, but I do see that she seeks your attention and your company as of then as possible. Even if it means she has to cast her eyes downward in mock-shame and listen to you scolding her." Maitimo finally let his suspicions out, waving a hand in a gesture of displeasure.

"So you are saying that this foolish girl is pretending... just to spend more time with me?" Feanaro muttered.

As it dawned upon him, the thought that the young apprentice had become enamored of him caused his eyes to widen and alarm to spread through him. "Maitimo, please believe me when I tell you that I had no knowledge of this and if I have encouraged her reckless behavior, it was not my intention and I wish I had not done so. It pleases me not at all to hear your suspicions and realize that you are right."

"I know you have not been aware of it, Atar." Maitimo said, in a smooth, placating voice, upon seeing his father's discomfort. "You are too busy and too trusting to notice such things. I am sorry that this discovery upsets you so much and worry not, I do not doubt that you have not encouraged the girl in any of her foolish hopes."

"Still, it angers me, Maitimo. I must look like a vain or gullible fool in the eyes of the other apprentices. I have to wonder what your mother might be thinking of me, if she is also aware, though she has not spoken a word."

"Now you worry too much. Amil knows nothing of this. And your other students are more than likely absorbed by their work. At the very worst, they are pleased too see one of their most skilled co-workers receiving less praise. And the girl is, or rather was, subtle." Maitimo tried to ease his father's growing anger.

"Yet it has not escaped you eye." Feanaro quickly pointed out.

"It is my job to notice such things, Atar." Maitimo replied, with a none-too-innocent grin.

"Your job?... Maitimo, sometimes you make me wonder which one of us is the father and which one the son." Feanaro answered, lowering his eyes to the floor and fighting his embarrassment.

"You are my father, of course. And, as your son, it is my duty to look after you. But you are also much more than my father. Thus, it should not surprise you that my vigilance never falters." Maitimo said, his smile growing.

Had the light been brighter and had Feanaro not sat with his back to it, a genuine blush could have been spotted on his cheeks. He smiled fondly.

"And I am thankful, beloved. For all the age difference between us and the advantage of experience I should have on you, I swear you are the wiser and more perceptive of us."

'You have not that many years on me, Atar...And sometimes you hardly show it.' Maitimo thought, while looking at Feanaro's fair, youthful features, the slight blush making him all the more appealing.

"I am none of those things, Atar. If you had more time and if you were less passionate and involved in your work, you would surely see all of the little things that escape your attention now. But I would not have it any other way, because you have a gift that should not be wasted by worrying over inane things like an apprentice having a crush on you."

"That might be so, Nelyo. But still... I have to talk to this young woman and set things straight. It disappoints me very much, that she has used her work in such an insidious manner. I will put her back in her place and make it clear that I do not have and will not have any interest of the kind." Feanaro said, becoming frustrated with the situation once more.

"Having a serious conversation with her is certainly necessary. But try not to hurt the young woman. She remains a valuable craft-smith and it would be a pity to see her talent go to waste if she decides to quit the apprenticeship. Or worse, if you dismiss her." Maitimo said calmly, sincerely wishing that his father would not be too harsh on the poor girl who simply didn't know better.

"That's easy for you to say..." Feanaro retorted. "You are not the one in this awkward position. Nelyo, despite my marriage and having four children, I can honestly say I know nothing about women. You talk to her, my son. You are more sedate and polite. Besides, you seem to have a way of dealing with maidens that always gets you out of trouble." Feanaro added, in a pleading tone.

'Yes... That would be why I am standing here, in your forge, in naught but these flimsy clothes, trying with all my might not to pounce on you, father.' Maitimo ironically told himself. But to Feanaro, he only shook his head and refused the plea.

"I will do no such thing. It must come from you. She might very well dismiss my opinion and advice, on the very basis that I am your son and, therefore, unwilling to allow anyone come near my father, save mother, of course."

'And me...' he added to himself. The Elder Elf's shoulders slumped and he sighed in defeat.

"Very well. You undo me with your logic, as always, Nelyo..."

'Only with my logic?!' Maitimo nearly asked, but thought better of it and kept his tongue, allowing Feanaro to continue.

"I will not have anyone say that Feanaro Curufinwe had not the courage to talk to his confused apprentice."

Suppressing a chuckle, Maitimo answered: "'Tis not courage that you are lacking, but the heart to be cruel to this poor girl and uproot whatever feelings for you might have grown in her heart. But you are a gifted speaker, Atar, and I have faith that you will handle this in a way that will not cause her much humiliation and your loss of respect for each other. Just remember, when you want to have a word with her, that she cannot be blamed for loving you. Indeed, who can be blamed for this when it is well-nigh impossible not to love you?" Maitimo finished, the warmest and most affectionate of smiles lighting his face.

If there ever was a time for Feanaro to go weak in the knees and to have his heart skip a beat, that moment had arrived. He grasped the edge of the table with shaking hands and his expression spoke of all the love he felt for the incredible being in front of him, that he had been blessed with not only as a father, but also as a confidant and as a lover.

"I love you, Maitimo..." he murmured. "I love you so much and here you are, saying such things that make me wonder if I truly deserve you."

"Ai, Atar! You do deserve me. I love you also and I hope that I will be doing more than just declaring it." Maitimo answered, a challenging smile tugging at his lips.

For an instant Feanaro just stared, mouth slightly open. Then, he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to one side, shooting his son a questioning look.

"My dear Nelyo... exactly what are you doing here, in naught but your sleepwear, so early in the morning?" he inquired in an insinuating voice.

Maitimo displayed a fake-innocent smile while answering:

"Well, you see... I was peacefully sleeping and then I suddenly woke up, feeling this urge to come here and do some... hammering."

At this, Feanaro burst into a fit of laughter that filled the room with its merry sound.

"Nelyo... Nelyo, you are killing me!" he said, between gasps for breath, watching his son's amused face.

"Well...are you up for some hammering?" he said, with an almost straight face.

"What do you think?" Feanaro replied, tugging at the ties of his apron. "Do you even have to ask?" he continued, letting the article of clothing drop to the floor, after pulling it from around his neck. He moved in Maitimo's direction, but passed him by, heading for the door. He only paused there to lock it and then he turned around.

His appearance had changed and Feanaro's eyes were aflame with desire, as he closed the distance that separated him and Maitimo. The young Elf faced his father and allowed his eyes to roam all over the other's body, avidly taking in every detail. He shuddered and a wave of lust bathed his senses, as he watched Feanaro untying the cloth that had held his hair back and shaking his head, letting the rich, dark tresses fall freely and frame his exquisite face.

"Come to me..." he whispered, reaching out for Feanaro and pulling him a tight embrace, as they shared the first of many fierce kisses.

Lack of breath and the arousal that spread through them like a flood had both their heads spinning. Crushed against each other, their hands roamed over unwanted fabric, seeking and craving to touch the heat beneath.

Breaking the kiss with a gasp, Feanaro searched Maitimo's eyes, discovering an igniting spark in their pewter depths. Maitimo's nostrils flared as he breathed the electrifying scent that was his father. He had been soothed by it in Feanaro's safe embrace once, but it set him aflame like little else could, in moments of passion like the the ones they were sharing, in the dim light of the forge. He took in Feanaro's adoring expression with the effect of a powerful drug, so good, and yet so dangerous, so addictive.

They stood at the same height and it would not be long before Maitimo would tower over his father and the rest of his family. But, for the time being, they faced each other, eye to eye, noses almost touching and full, parted lips quivering as each drew in the other's familiar scent. Maitimo raised his hands from the small of Feanaro's back, where he had pressed his father closer, during their heated kiss, and placed his palms on the sides of Feanaro's head, feeling the satiny touch of his hair beneath his fingers.

"I have missed you..." Maitimo whispered, letting his hands wander slowly over Feanaro's features. The elder Elf closed his eyes and sighed, shivers running through him, as Maitimo traced his brows, his cheeks, his jaw. The young Elf ran his thumbs over his father's lips, resisting the urge to crush them in a possessive kiss and then, his fingers traveled up the shells of Feanaro's ears, in a feathery caress that had Feanaro groaning.

When Maitimo began rubbing the sensitive tips between his fingers, he was rewarded with a low hum that reverberated through Feanaro's entire body.

"And I have missed you... Maitimo..." Feanaro purred, opening his eyes just a fraction and leaning against Maitimo's body, as he received the maddening caresses. He could see the avid interest that Maitimo studied his reactions with, biting his lower lip and grinning...'Like a wicked tormentor with his new toy' Feanaro told himself. Somehow, that thought was so arousing that Feanaro felt a strong surge of desire filling him to the tips of his fingers and toes. He let his hands wander beneath Maitimo's night-shirt, feeling the smooth, heated skin quivering under his caress. His fingers dug into Maitimo's back, pressing the young Elf flush against his hardening arousal, and, through the obstructive fabric of their leggings, Feanaro could feel that Maitimo was just as eager.

"So, you have come here to seduce me?" Feanaro inquired.

"Is it working?" Maitimo replied with a question, grinning. But he closed his eyes and gasped when he felt Feanaro grinding against his arousal. "I see..." the young elf murmured, before following his previous wish and claiming Feanaro's mouth once more. They explored each other with insatiable hunger, intoxicated by the unique and enticing flavor that each of them was.

Moving his hands lower, over Maitimo's tense buttocks and thighs, Feanaro lifted his son, wrapping his long legs around his waist. He did so with seemingly little effort, leaving no doubt as to the amount of strength that he housed in his deceptively lithe body. Arms wrapped around his father's neck, Maitimo lowered his head and licked a hot trail from Feanaro's mouth, down the soft skin of his throat.

Only a step forward, they found the work-bench that Maitimo had reclined against, before. Feanaro gently placed his son on the polished wooden surface, but he did not break free of the embrace that had his arousal trapped in such delicious heat.

"You asked me if I was up for some hammering, my beautiful son." Feanaro said, looking up to meet Maitimo's eyes, while busying his fingers with removing his son's shirt.

"Mmmm-hmm..." the young Elf purred, trying to maintain eye contact even when Feanaro's fingers brushed against his pebbled nipples and then traveled lower, over the taut muscles of his abdomen.

"When is a smith not up for some hammering?" Feanaro asked with a sly grin. The laces of Maitimo's shirt had finally come undone and Feanaro slid the fabric over Maitimo's shoulders, tossing the shirt away.

"It was a rhetorical question, Atar. I would have pounced on you regardless of your answer." Maitimo said and yelped immediately after, when Feanaro's lips and teeth closed around one of his nipples, teasing him without pity. He clenched his teeth and tried not to cry out too loud, as Feanaro's mouth and hands did a quick job of having him nearly undone.

Maitimo willed hid fingers to remove his father's tunic, but he could not focus on the task, too swept away by the sensations evoked in him by the relentless caresses. As his resolve melted, he tangled his fingers in Feanaro's hair, letting him torture his senses even further.

Feanaro took his time worshiping his son's body with hands and mouth, slowly traveling toward the throbbing erection that he could feel through Maitimo's thin leggings. His own body responded strongly to Maitimo's moans and whimpers, signaling a need that would soon demand to be fulfilled. He could not suppress a hiss of satisfaction when he untied Maitimo's leggings, allowing his hard arousal to rise, demandingly.

Slowly, Feanaro lifted his head, peering upward and grinning, as he saw Maitimo's face. The young Elf had his wide eyes riveted to the intoxicating sight, watching Feanaro, as he breathlessly waited a wet bliss to envelop his weeping member.

Shaking his head, Feanaro chose to rise and ignore the plaintive whimper that escaped Maitimo's lips.

"I am tempted, my love, believe me." he said. "But I need to have you. I want us to climax together while I am buried deep within you." Feanaro continued, his voice growing husky with every word.

Maitimo nodded eagerly, swallowing hard. His eyes fluttered shut and his head fell back, when Feanaro began stroking his length slowly, while his thumb massaged the glistening tip.

"You... are... too dressed..." the young Elf hissed, his hips moving upward to meet the hand that poured such pleasure in him.

Feanaro used his free hand to unlace his tunic and he reluctantly ceased caressing Maitimo, when he realized that his son was loosing himself to pleasure too soon. He removed his tunic, placing it on the table that he had been previously working at.

Regaining some measure of control over his raging senses, Maitimo slid off the work-table, kicked off his shoes and leggings and remained standing, oblivious to the cold floor beneath his bare feet.

When Feanaro turned around and saw him, he remained motionless for several moments, smitten by the unbelievable beauty the Elf before him. Breathing heavily, he pulled himself together, looking at Maitimo with the kind of admiration that made the young Elf go weak in the knees.

"You are so incredibly beautiful, Maitimo... So fair and arousing that it aches..." Feanaro spoke almost reverently.

Maitimo's heart fluttered and he felt the visceral need to crush his father in an embrace that would never end.

"This beauty is your doing, Atar. Your creation. And all of it belongs to you." he breathed.

The intensity of the exchange sent both Elves in a frenzy. Feanaro shook himself of the enchantment and searched for his cloak. He gave it to Maitimo who folded it and placed it on the wooden table, beneath him. Then, Feanaro stopped and wondered what they could use for lubrication, bursting into laughter when Maitimo told him:

"Top shelf to your right, behind the box of nails."

He located the small vial and returned to Maitimo's side, shaking his head in disbelief.

"What?... I put it there, yes. For emergencies only." Maitimo shrugged, like it was the most natural thing in the world to hide a vial of massage oil in his father's work area.

"Never mind..." Feanaro muttered, waving off the questions that assailed him. He unlaced his own leggings, freeing his throbbing member and letting the soft fabric slide down his strong, muscled legs. Positioning himself in front of Maitimo, he handed him the vial.

"Would you do it for me, my naughty one?" he asked.

The answer came swiftly, accompanied by Feanaro's groan, as he shuddered when his arousal was enveloped in slick heat. He only allowed a few strokes before removing Maitimo's hand. Their fingers entwined and their palms rubbed against each other, slick with scented oil. Feanaro slipped his hands beneath Maitimo's buttocks, urging him to sit back and spread his legs further. He moaned in tandem with Maitimo, while his fingers made quick work of preparing him. Then, Feanaro plunged in with a fluid motion, holding his breath and remaining completely still.

Maitimo bit his lip hard, drawing blood and trying to muffle the scream that erupted in him when he felt himself breached, stretched and filled. He arched his back and a fine sheen of sweat broke all over his body. He drew in shallow breaths, willing his body to relax. He whimpered and slowly moved against the hot shaft that had him impaled, when Feanaro stroked his arousal, murmuring soft, endearing words.

Gritting his teeth, Feanaro waited for his son to take the initiative, unwilling to cause him any further discomfort. But his resolve shattered when Maitimo's movement grew bolder and he felt his own arousal slide in the unbearable heat. He bent over Maitimo, seeking his lips and kissing him roughly.

Rocking into each other, they shared passionate caresses. Maitimo dragged his nails along Feanaro's back and then sneaked his hands between them, to rub his lover's nipples between his fingers. Feanaro groaned, moving his hips faster and matching the pace on Maitimo's arousal, driving the young Elf closer and closer to the edge.

As their lovemaking became frantic, Feanaro lowered his head and bit Maitimo's shoulder hard, making him scream. But the pain was washed away quickly by a few rapid thrusts that hit the spot and sent Maitimo spiraling, out of control.

"Now... I know where... Carnistir's biting habit comes from..." Maitimo panted, writhing beneath his father. Feanaro laughed, a low, sensual sound that filled the young Elf's ears. He bit Maitimo again, his neck this time, leaving an angry red mark which he immediately soothed, never slowing the pace of his thrusts.

"Ai, Atar! That one is going to show..." Maitimo cried. He took hold of his father's head and brought their lips together, thus keeping Feanaro's wicked mouth from leaving any more painful marks.

Their bodies soon took control and chased release at a frantic pace. There was panting, crying muffled by savage kisses, violent thrashing and pounding into each other. And a shattering explosion that stilled their movement, as pleasure coursed through their veins and their hearts beat wildly. Skin on skin, breathing each other's ecstasy, they felt their bodies and souls merging, a solid bond being forged between them in the melting heat of passion.

In the dim light of the forge, their entwined bodies glowed, covered by a sheen of sweat. But brighter than that burned their inner fire-kindred flames of kindred spirits. Maitimo was resting his head against the wall behind him, propped on his elbows, eyes closed and mouth open, drawing in gulps of air. Feanaro was also panting, his damp forehead pressed against Maitimo's shoulder. The muscles of his arms quivered with the effort Feanaro required not to collapse on top of his son, as he supported himself, hands on the table, at Maitimo's sides.

A few moments of silence passed, as they both struggled to breathe and waited for their heads to stop spinning. When he felt his legs strong enough to support him, Feanaro rose, pulling Maitimo up and wrapping his arms around him. The young Elf immediately
snuggled in the embrace, encircling Feanaro's waist with his own heavy arms and resting his head in the crook of Feanaro's neck. It was not the most comfortable position, but the most comforting one, as Feanaro began stroking Maitimo's tangled hair, enjoying the feeling of having him so near, sharing so much with him and letting the warmth of their love wash over their sated bodies.

"Thank you, beloved. Thank you for giving me this." Feanaro murmured, kissing the top of Maitimo's head and inhaling deeply.

"Thank you for giving me everything." Maitimo answered, his lips touching his father's skin as he spoke. "And know that I shall never tire of it. Even now, pleased as I am, I want more." he continued, letting his warm breath ghost over the smooth skin of Feanaro's neck, as he slowly moved his lips along the vein that still pulsed in a fast rhythm.

"Nelyo... What am I going to do with you?..." Feanaro shuddered. And what am I going to do without you? he wondered, but did not voice the words, choosing to banish the question to a corner of his mind as he knew that he did not want it answered. Not yet... He moaned and tossed his head back when Maitimo's tongue began tracing lazy circles on his skin.

'How I would sink my teeth in you and hear you scream...' Maitimo thought and then grinned at his own viciousness. He felt Feanaro responding and clutching his shoulders.

"Stop..." Feanaro asked feebly. "Nelyo... we can't. It's late and the others will wake soon."

"I know." Maitimo said, between lavish kisses, savoring the metallic and slightly salty taste of Feanaro's skin. "But that does not make me want it any less..." he crooned and his hands slipped over Feanaro's hips, his fingers digging into the firm muscles.

"Nelyo!" his father yelped, shaking his head and squirming away from the enticing embrace. "Don't play like this when you know that we have no more time."

"Hmph!" Maitimo huffed, rolling his eyes and blowing a strand of coppery hair that had fallen on his cheek. "All right..." he said and began to stretch, humming and purring like a satisfied, sleepy cat.

Feanaro covered his face with one hand and growled, hastily pulling his leggings up and putting some distance between him and temptation. "Do I have to throw a bucket of cold water on you, my sweet?" he inquired while going to the wash basin beside the door.

"Only if you let me return the favor." Maitimo quipped.

"Yea, right..." Feanaro muttered, cleaning himself quickly and lacing his leggings. He poured clear, icy water over a soft cloth and bit back a wicked grin as he returned to Maitimo's side. The young Elf sat on the table, dangling his legs and looking absolutely innocent, despite his nudity and what they had done just moments ago.

"May I?" Feanaro asked, pointing to the cloth in his hand. When Maitimo nodded, he leaned closer and pressed his lips against his son's. "It's cold..." he said and his mouth twisted into a grin as Maitimo yelped and pushed his hands away roughly.

"Atar!..." the young Elf hissed, glaring at Feanaro.

"'Twas just as cold for me too..." Feanaro shrugged, still grinning widely.

"Give me that!" Maitimo grabbed the cloth and bounced off the table. "Can you get my clothes?"

"Oh, you mean these flimsy excuses for clothing?" Feanaro asked, collecting the shirt and leggings from where they had previously been discarded. "What were you thinking, getting out of the house in naught but these?" the elder Elf continued teasing his son.

"I don't recall hearing any complaints a few minutes ago." Maitimo replied. He took the shirt and put it on, starting to lace it. "Mmm... I'm surprised this is not all torn up." he mused, looking at Feanaro from the corner of his eye.

"Meaning?..." Feanaro asked, holding the thin leggings and waiting for Maitimo to take them.

"Meaning I can use them again and not have to invent some idiotic excuse for ripped clothing." Maitimo answered, taking the leggings and slipping them on quickly.

"Well, forgive me, but I remember at least two of my best tunics being torn beyond repair not so long ago." Feanaro did not give up.

"That is all your fault. Who made you come to my rooms dressed like that, and looking so good that I could not but tear everything off you? Hmm? And them you blamed it on Tyelko's dog!" Maitimo laughed, putting his shoes on and then looking at his father.

Feanaro regarded his son with an expression of mock indignation, having folded his arms across his bare chest.

"You arrogant brat!" he muttered.

"You spoil me too much." Maitimo replied, going to retrieve his father's tunic. As Feanaro huffed and made to grab him, he tossed the the item at his father and ducked, heading for the opposite side of the large room.

"Get back here, you!" Feanaro called after him and putting his tunic on.

"I thought you said we have no time for that!"

"Gods, you are right, I spoil you too much. Now get over here and quit this foolish behavior."

"All right, but don't try anything funny... Like biting!" Maitimo said, rubbing his neck and wincing when his fingers found the angry, red mark that Feanaro had inflicted upon him in the heat of their lovemaking.

Hearing him, Feanaro snickered. "Nothing funny. I promise." He embraced Maitimo and kissed the tip of his nose, while combing Maitimo's hair with his fingers. "Let me see that bite mark."

Maitimo rested his hands on his father's hips and tossed his head to the side, allowing Feanaro to look at his own work. "Ouch!" the later hissed, seeing the teeth marks. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not. I shall have to wear a high-neck tunic today and even that might not cover it. Give me your word that you won't snicker or say a word if Macalaure makes fun of me today." Maitimo said.

"I will try..." came the evasive answer, but Feanaro quickly added "All right, you have my word." when he saw Maitimo's glare.

"I will have my retribution for this, you know..." Maitimo told him, in an insinuating tone.

"You will?..."

"Yes. Right there, on your work-table, when you least expect it." Maitimo answered and fought back a chuckle when he saw his father's eyes growing wide. "That's right... so put that vial back on the shelf and beware." he finished, his eyes gleaming with mirth.

"Thank you... for the warning." Feanaro nodded sagely, before bursting into laughter. "I have raised a wicked, insatiable demon!" he said, shaking his head in wonder.

"I wonder in who's liking you've raised this demon?" his son added.

"Fair enough. Just put on a cloak before you wander over here in revealing outfits again. Now, you'll have to run back to the house and sneak to your rooms shivering." Feanaro said, fondly caressing Maitimo's cheek.

"I'll remember that. You should come back to the house, too. I'm hungry and it's your turn to make breakfast."

"Oooh, now you truly sound like a spoiled brat. I'll be there after tidying up this place. I cannot leave it like this for when the apprentices come to work." Feanaro said, watching the wicked grin that was spreading on Maitimo's beautiful face. "What?... "

"Nothing..." the young Elf quipped.

"Nothing?... Arrrg, never-mind!" Feanaro groaned.

"Would you like me to run you a bath?" Maitimo asked. " Alone..." he added, seeing the look that his father had cast him.

"That would be nice. Thank you."

"I have lessons with Findekano after breakfast. Will you be joining us?" Maitimo inquired, stepping out of Feanaro's embrace and preparing to leave.

"No. I don't think it will help either of you." Feanaro answered, lacing his tunic and watching Maitimo as the young Elf headed for the door. His eyes gleamed and he called after his son in a smooth voice. "Nelyo... your cousin is growing up into a fine young Elf, don't you think?"

Intrigued by the tone of the question, Maitimo turned around to see the enigmatic look on his father's face. "Yes, he is." he answered.

"Be careful with him, my son."

"What? ... Why? Is something the matter with Findekano?" Maitimo asked, immediately concerned.

"I hope not. Time will tell. But I have my suspicions. The boy might be in his early twenties, but he is old enough to start thinking about some things." Feanaro told his son, a fond smile playing on his lips as he saw the genuine concern in Maitimo's appearance.

"Atar, stop alluding to things and just tell me what you know."

"I know nothing for sure. But I have seen how Findekano looks up to you. My son, the boy adores you. He works so hard and he is so happy when he spends his time with you. Surely you must have noticed."

Maitimo nodded.

"Yes, I have seen that too. And I love Findekano very much, Atar. He is like a brother to me."

"I know, Nelyo. He is like a son to me, as well. That is why I am telling you to be careful." Feanaro replied.

"I will be. But what should I do? Would it be best if I spent less time with him?" Maitimo asked, but the look on his face spoke volumes about how much he disliked the idea.

"No." Feanaro spoke softly, a distant light flickering in his eyes for a second. "He is but a child now and it would hurt him deeply if you rejected his friendship and turned away from him. Later, however... Do what your heart tells you, Nelyo. I trust your judgment and your feelings. And you can always come to me for advice." he finished, smiling warmly.

Maitimo walked back to his father and embraced him, rubbing his cheek against his silky, dark hair. "You have a lot of faith in me, Atar. And so does the young one. I will try my best not to fail either of you. And... it looks like I am not the only one who has taken upon himself to notice things..." he murmured, close to his father's ear.

"No... It's my job to look after you, even if I am lousy at it, sometimes." Feanaro answered.

"You are not lousy! Don't ever say that." Maitimo demanded and silenced his father as he made to reply. His mouth found Feanaro's soft lips and the elder Elf gave in to the long, tender kiss that they shared, neither willing to let go. It was Feanaro who pressed his palms against Maitimo's chest and gently pushed him away, after several minutes passed and they did not tire of tasting and teasing each other.

"Be gone, temptation! We have other things to do." he murmured, caressing Maitimo's arms even as he moved away.

"Other, but not better." Maitimo added, while walking to the door. He turned around only to flash his father a dazzling smile, before unlocking the door and slipping outside with barely a sound.

For a few moments, Feanaro remained still, staring into space. The dreamy smile never left his face, even as he shook himself and began clearing the room of any trace of the morning's... activities. His smile turned into a snicker, as he tossed his rumpled tunic aside and ran a clean cloth over the table that he had ravished Maitimo on. Eventually, he slid to the floor, dropping the cloth and clutching at his stomach as he was shaken by waves of laughter, tears running from the corners of his eyes and onto smooth, flushed cheeks.