He still dreamed of his death, of shadow and flame and of betrayal and pain. After that his memories were few and vague, the time in the Halls of Namo were forgotten and the ending of the world felt distant and unreal. In fact everything between his death and finding himself alive within his own keep felt like nothing but a dream.

He believed he had started to come to terms with the sudden confusion of being alive and of seeing old friends living by his side, some of them he had seen fall as long ago as Alqualonde and yet now they lived and breathed, as he did. Part of him wondered why neither his father, nor his brothers or son had been returned to life with him, it seemed so many others had greeted their long lost relatives with joy whereas he stood aside, isolated in a sea of reunions.

Maybe that was what had first attracted him to the only elves that looked as lost as he felt, the only elves, he admitted, that he did not know or recognise from before. He smiled slightly to himself. They had been thin and pale and suspicious and dressed in rags and animal skins rather than clothes. An approach offering them food and rooms of their own had been greeted with suspicion but accepted nonetheless.

He had ordered robes for them from his oldest friend as well as tunics and leggings and in the weeks since he and the twins, Elurin and Elured - grandsons of Luthien, had become friends. He trusted them in a way he had trusted none but Maitimo before and often sought their company. Elured in particular spoke to something within him and to his own surprise he had come to accept that he felt attracted to the other elf.

He had married in his last life, a marriage of duty and convenience where his inability to love had caused great hurt and suffering to both himself and his lady wife. He had truly thought himself unable to love and yet now, he admitted to himself, he was falling in love.

The awkward knock on the door made him smile and call out for his guests to enter.

Elured entered first, trailed by his brother. Amusedly Fingon noted that their braids were still an unruly mess, tied together by old pieces of string and something he strongly suspected were old pieces of dried guts.

“Sit down,” he said fondly as he reached for a hairbrush and a few of his own hair-clasps. “Will you let me tidy your hair?”

Elurin laughed. “You could try!”

Elured smiled slightly to himself as he sat down obediently.

Carefully Fingon started the slow, laborious task of removing the strings and twigs and twinned strands of grass that helped together the makeshift braids. Eventually he reached for the hairbrush, starting to run it slowly and steadily through Elured’s long, dark hair. He shivered slightly as he rand his hands through the coarse and glossy locks, imagining them on his skin.

Elured looked relaxed where he sat, his eyes closed and his breathing calm and steady.

Elurin fluttered around the room, picking up different items he found interesting before putting them down again and kept glancing towards Fingon and his twin.

“I can braid yours as well after I finish with Elured if you like?”

A beaming grin spread over Elurin’s face. “Yes please. I am afraid our current hairstyles does not match our fine new clothes.”

Fingon laughed, finding Elurin‘s enthusiasm enchanting and alien. “The wild look suits both of you but so, I admit, do the new robes,”

Elured ran a hand over the pale green robe he was wearing. “Thank you,” he said, breaking his silence. “We have not had such fine garments since… in a very long time.”

Swallowing Fingon watched Elured’s hand caressing the soft material. “Well there are plenty of fine things for you here, you will never lack of anything in my home.”

Elurin gave Fingon a strange look and glanced at his twin before he turned towards the large windows, looking around the room. “You have no plants.”

No,” Fingon admitted calmly, “I do not have the knack for keeping growing things alive. I am better, it seems, at swords and weaponry and killing things”

Elurin nodded to himself. “We will change that,” he decided. “Everywhere needs something green.” Another quick grin lit up his face. “And you are a hero, I remember my mother telling us tales of the Noldo that turned away the dragon.”

Elured chuckled. “I can remember that too, we did not have many tales that pictures the Noldor in a good light but the tales of you did.”

Fingon winced, feeling embarrassment heat his face. “The stories are over-exaggerated” He saw the amused looks from the twins and quickly changed the subject. “I will need some refreshment before I start with your hair Elurin, perhaps you could ask for some food to be sent up while you wait? It is well past time for a midday meal.”

Elurin gave him an amused and knowing grin before he left the room.

“We meant no harm,” Elured said quietly. “We would not wish to offend you.”

“You did not offend me,” he answered, squeezing Elured’s shoulder lightly. “I just cannot see myself as a hero, I did what I had to and so did everyone else in those days.”

Elured nodded silently.

The air felt thick and oddly charged as Fingon reluctantly set aside the hairbrush. “There,” he said, his voice hushed, “all done. You look a true King of Doriath.”

Elured opened his eyes and turned towards him with a small smile, amusement playing in his grey eyes. “Thank you, but I am no more King than you are a hero,” he chuckled again. “Even less a King.”

Silence fell between them as their eyes met, neither looking away. Slowly Fingon leaned forwards, brushing his lips against Elured’s. His heart was pounding.

Elured’s eyes widened in surprise before he slowly parted his lips.

With a ragged gasp Fingon kissed him again, tasting him, wrapping his hands in the thick, neat braids.The taste was wild, untamed, intoxicating and uniquely Elured. For the second time in a month his world spun out of control.

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