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Story Notes:
The incest warning is due to the fact that Fingon and Maedhros are indeed cousins. Just wanted the warning there.
Author's Chapter Notes:
--Cast with names translated for easy reference
Findekáno – Fingon; Fingolfin’s eldest son
Turukáno – Turgon; Fingolfin’s second son
Russandol – Maedhros; Fëanor’s eldest son
Makalaurë – Maglor; Fëanor’s second son
Angaráto – Angrod; Finarfin’s third son
Aikanáro – Aegnor; Finarfin’s fourth son
“Fin, wake up.” Turukáno frowned and poked his brother again. “Fin!” He glanced at the door, waiting for the moment that his parents would enter, either worried that their eldest son was having nightmares again, or upset that he had awoken their baby sister.

Nightmares were not the cause of Findekáno’s broken moans, and this Turukáno knew. His brother had confessed to him, somewhat, after the first few times. After their mother had left one night, Turukáno watched his brother’s shoulders slump and his expression change from one of false fear to one of great concern. “Tell me what it is that ails you, brother, for it seems clearer to me than to anyone else that Irmo does not torment your slumber.”

“Aye...” Then Findekáno had been for a long while silent, until early dawn broke and the rooster gave a premature crow. “Have you ever had a dream that seemed so very real, so much so that you believed you were living within the dream?”

“Sometimes,” admitted Turukáno. “I have, now and again, believed myself to be hunting and when I woke—“

“No, no.” And Findekáno shook his head, and smiled. “I forget at times how much younger you are than I; never mind.”

In those words, Turukáno had guessed the riddle, for he was well beyond his majority despite being the younger, and had himself taken a fancy to a lady his own age. Still he was puzzled, for Findekáno showed much more interest in hunting and camping with their cousins, Russandol and Makalaurë, and with their full cousins, Angaráto and Aikanáro. Turukáno sometimes went along on these excursions, though his heart was more into the building of roads and of tall structures, and in the sailing of boats when he had the time.

He recalled the discussions they would have at times when they made camp and started a fire, and how the topic of available ladies was ever brought up in conversation. Findekáno would remain quiet at these times when the others would border upon lewd, and it made Turukáno wonder if ever they had spoken ill of the beloved of his heart. “So... who is she, Fin?”

Turukáno expected an answer of some sort, be it a name or a plea not to ask. But Findekáno looked away and turned red, and then Turukáno guessed the rest of it, and questioned no more the softness of his brother’s voice or that he painted his lashes, nor the times he sat quietly as they watched the wrestling matches instead of cheering for a victory or booing a loser. “So... who is he?”

The harsh tone of Turukáno’s words was akin to a slap in the face, and Findekáno did not even look upon his brother. There was no name given, but Findekáno issued his plea. “Brother, if you love me, you will not tell Naneth or Atar.”

Although Turukáno had sworn no oath, he kept the promise that Findekáno had asked for. Today, he struggled to wake his brother. Partly he did not want anyone else to awaken, but his greater reason was more selfish. He despised that his brother had such thoughts and feelings, and though he had yet to act upon them, even that his brother dreamed of them repulsed Turukáno. To make him rise would end the dream, and some part of this thought made Turukáno glad. “Wake up!” he hissed yet again, and yanked the sheet away from Findekáno, throwing it immediately back down upon him. “Fin!”

The chill followed by the warmth upon his naked body startled Findekáno awake, and he blinked and rubbed his eyes. “W-what? What is wrong?”

“What is wrong?” Turukáno ripped the sheet away and threw it to the floor. “What is that!?”

Findekáno chewed his bottom lip and regarded the silver dew that clung to his stomach and thighs. “It had to be the dreams...”

“Well, stop dreaming about... him,” Turukáno sneered. “Stop being so... unnatural.”

“I... I do not think I can. Can you control your dreams?” Findekáno countered.

“I do not have to,” growled Turukáno as he stalked off in disgust.
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