#trying to catch up on the twdd stories that i haven't posted here so have another one today

[lordgrimwing]

Babysitting #01

Maglor didn't flinch when his office door swung open, hitting the doorstop on the wall with a bang. At the law firm of Fëanoro & Associates, slamming doors and raised voices were no uncommon thing. He considered it the natural consequence of working with his father and all six of his brothers (Amrod and Amras were just paralegals at this point, but there was no question that they would join the firm after graduating) in a single building. He continued typing on his chunky keyboard until he reached the end of the paragraph of the settlement document he was redrafting before looking up.

"I need you," Maedros said without preamble, the customary mildly annoyed expression he wore anytime he wasn't talking to clients or judges replaced by actual frustration. "To do something for me."

"I'm kind of in the middle of something," Maglor said, already knowing that he'd do whatever his brother asked and just end up staying even later at the office—it wasn't as if anything was waiting for him back at his apartment.

"She brought her children," The hand not gripping the edge of the door curled into a fist at his side.

“Who did?” One of the first changes Maglor made when he came on as an attorney was to hire some good secretaries. He did not pay that much attention to any of his brothers’ schedules these days.

“That Elwing woman, the pro bono case Celegorm talked me into.”

“Oh,” He was quite familiar with the details of this particular divorce if for no other reason than Maedhros complained about it at least once a day for the past month. The woman in question, a young peredhel from down south, was apparently prone to worrying over every detail and calling her attorney in a panic when she needed reassurance that everything would get worked out. 

“I cannot work with children touching everything in my office.” His brother continued, shoulders tense. 

He thought he knew where this was going. “And you need me to…”

“Just occupy them with something. If they aren’t around to interrupt and distract her from what we’re doing, I’ll be done in an hour, two at most if this girl keeps asking inane questions and insisting on accounting for every possible mishap in the formal papers.”

Maglor signed out of his computer and pushed his chair back from the desk. “I can do that.”

“Good,” Though the tone didn’t suggest it, he could see his brother’s gratitude in the faint softening of his frown before he turned away. “Come on.”

They walked quickly down the hall to Maedhros’s corner office. At the large wooden desk inside sat a woman with bleach-blond hair styled in a vaguely windswept way. She looked up anxiously when the door swished open, her bottom lip slipping out from between her teeth as she quickly tried to compose herself. She looked even younger than Maglor expected: less like the 23-year-old mother of twin 6-year-old boys and more like a child herself. The boys in question had their faces and hands pressed against one of the windows, staring out at the city below them.

“This is Maglor,” Maedhros said briskly to Elwing. “He will keep an eye on your children until we finish.”

Maglor smiled at her to smooth over his brother’s tone. “We’ll be just down the hall.”

“Thank you,” She said, still looking like a nervous wreck, and turned to her children. “Elros, Elrond.”

They turned from the window to look at the adults. Maglor was surprised to see they were identical and couldn’t help but recall how Amrod and Amras looked as children too. Even 20, most people outside the family had a hard time telling his brothers apart, though Amrod’s hair was getting slowly darker as the years passed. These twins did not bear any resemblance to his brothers, of course, beyond the fact that they were both identical sets. Their features bore such a mix of races as to make it impossible to guess at their heritage other than some combination of elf and human.

Elwing continued. “This nice man is going to take you to do something much more fun than listening to Mommy and Mr. Marillion talk.”

Maedhros’ upper lip curled back slightly in disgust at the use of his legal last name and probably at the reference to his brother as a man. Fëanor’s family held to the traditional values of the Noldor elves and preferred using more elvan terms. Personally, Maglor did not care much one way or the other if he were called an ‘ellon’ or a ‘man’, but everyone argued less when they all went along with tradition. He ignored his brother’s reaction and turned to the boys as they approached him.

“Yes,” He grinned at them, crouching slightly so he was not looming so far above them. “We can find something much more fun.” 

“Do you have toy boats?” The first boy asked, holding hands with his brother who looked much more reluctant to talk with the stranger. “I love boats.”

His father kept a model of the boats the Noldor used to sail across the sea thousands of years ago in his office, but Maglor doubted Fëanor would appreciate them interrupting him to see it. “Let’s go see what we can find,” He said instead. At the very least, he could use one of the secretary’s computers to look up boat images or videos. If that was all it took to keep these children occupied, he would count himself lucky. He recalled Amrod and Amras being quite the handful at this age.

The first boy tugged the second along as they left the office. “I’m Elros,” He said and then pointed back at his brother. “He’s Elrond. It’s okay if you don’t remember, no one ever does.”

“I’ll do my best.” Given Elros was wearing a green t-shirt and Elrond a blue, he would have no trouble telling them apart. “What do you like most about boats?” He asked.

“You can go anywhere on a boat!” Elros exclaimed with obvious glee. “You can sail all over the world and visit all the countries and go on adventures. Who doesn’t like boats?”

“I’ve met a few hobbits who don’t.”

Elros rolled his eyes. “Our dad’s met all kinds of people on the sea, even hobbits!”

“Our dad’s a sailor.” Elrond piped up in a tiny voice. 

By which, Maglor knew he meant their father was in the navy. He’s apparently been involved in some heroics a couple years ago which was somehow making the divorce more complicated than it should have been when two peredhil got married far too young and finally realized they shouldn’t stay together. According to his father, most people got married far too young these days, especially the elves. Fëanor spoke quite freely about the vices of marrying young when Curufin was going through his own quiet divorce five years ago. The then 23-year-old law student dutifully murmured his agreement with everything said as his now ex-wife took their child and drove away. Sometimes, it was better for everyone if couples didn’t stay together.

He wondered if these boys knew their parents were getting divorced. “That sounds very exciting,” He said instead and left it at that until they reached the front desk and he told the secretary that he’d be commandeering the unused computer so Elros could show him his favorite kinds of boats.

He did not particularly care for sailing himself. He’s gone out on the ocean a few times: their father insisted they all have at least an appreciation for the type of boats the Noldor used. He found the constant movement made him nauseated. Despite that, the next hour and a half passed surprisingly quickly as Elros, with a little support from Elrond, talked his way through picture after picture of various ships.

He looked up with surprise when he heard Maedhros’s voice. “Yes, yes I am sure that is everything we need to put in writing. Yes, Eärendil will be on leave next week and we’ll get everything signed and put away and it will all be official, and you do not need to worry.” 

His tall brother guided Elwing through the doorway and into the front lobby. From his tone and expression, he was on his last thread of civility.

“All finished?” Maglor asked, standing up quickly and giving the children a gentle push toward their mother to distract her from whatever she was worrying about and his brother’s bruskness.

“Yes,” Maedhros said with conviction. 

“Yes,” Elwing said with relief. “Mr. Marillion you’ve been so helpful, thank you. I feel so much better with adding those last couple things. I really do.” She turned to Maglor. “And thank you for looking after Elros and Elrond. I hope they weren’t too much trouble.” 

“None at all,” He assured, thinking about the documents waiting in his office.

“Thank you again, Mr…” She trailed off, clearly fishing for his last name.

“It’s Marillion too, but please just call me Maglor. There are far too many of us in this firm to use our last name.”

With that, Maedhros ushered her and the two boys out through the glass entry doors. 

“Is she getting custody?” Maglor asked when his brother turned around.

“Yes,” He answered, sounding entirely done with it all. “Full custody, the father didn’t even push very hard for visitation rights.”

“She doesn’t really seem like the kind of girl who should be raising kids on her own.” Maglor mused, watching through the glass as Elwing fumbled and dropped her car keys. When she bent over to retrieve them, her phone fell out of her purse to join the keys on the asphalt.

Maedhros snorted. “She’s done it for the last six years. The father will still pay child support, so a divorce isn’t going to change that much.”

“I suppose she loves them, at least.” Love did not play heavily in any of his siblings’ childhoods. Their father approved of results far more than people. Their mother appreciated that he and Maedhros were old enough to help when their siblings came along but was quite ready to continue with her career in the intervening years. People always talked about the importance of parents loving their children, though, so it seemed like an appropriate thing to say.

His brother shrugged, unconcerned. “She certainly worries.”

“How so?”

He turned back toward his office and Maglor followed by his side. “She wanted an addition to the agreement stating who should take the kids if she suddenly died or disappeared or was kidnapped and held for ransom by some eco-terrorist group, or if the police couldn’t definitively prove her ex wasn’t involved. I had to sit there for the last 40 minutes while she called every contact on her phone and asked if they would take them.” He threw his hands up with frustration.

“And did she find someone?” Maglor asked, curious.

“No! They all had the good sense not to answer or else say those were ridiculous things to worry about and told her to calm down and they’d talk later.” Maedhros looked as though he’d wanted to tell her a good deal more than that.

“She just gave up?”

“No,” He repeated, turning suddenly into Maglor’s office and flopping into one of the cushioned chairs for clients to sit in for more relaxed discussions. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.  

Maglor sat next to him. “You could get some nicer seats in your own office, you know, rather than using mine.” He chastised without any real intent. He liked when his brother stopped by to unwind a bit during the day.

Maedhros chuckled but didn’t answer. His office hardly changed in the ten years since he claimed the space after passing the bar.

“So what happened?” Maglor pushed.

“It’s past 6:30, I just wanted her to get out.” He said without opening his eyes.

“And?”

“I said I’d take them.”

Maglor laughed at the thought of his brother volunteering to look after children again. “Really?”

“Signed it and everything. Legally binding now.” Maedhros said, looking utterly unconcerned.

“Russ,” He switched to one of the names that he only used when lightly teasing his older brother. “That means you’ll have to raise two more boys if she suddenly and mysteriously dies.”

Maedhros inhaled sharply, a mockery of surprise, and said, “Pray that she doesn’t, Laurë. Pray that she doesn’t.”