*Patches Gwindor up as best he can after Fingolfin's pummeling o' rage.*

*Steps outside and jumps up and down, calling for healer-types to pay attention*

*Arrives at Fingolfin's with baby in his arms and squirrel on his shoulder.*

*Knocks on the door*

Please be sober, please be sober, please be sober...

*Isn't sure whether to be pleased or annoyed that he ended up being cupboarded at an inopportune moment.*

*Tries looking for a bright-side in his inimitable Celegorm way but comes up blank.*

Poor little guy. This wasn't supposed to happen. If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, Blessed Realm? My arse.

*Saunters into his living room and takes a deep breath*

I sense issues.

*takes another breath*

Possibly precipitated by hormones.

*takes a third*

Conclusion? The womenfolk are bitchy displeased. But seriously, what's going on?

*calls round to his father's*

Ada? I hate to be the bearer of bad news but put your situation-face on. We have one. A situation that is. You might want to think about looking into that lawsuit against the Valar again.

*Actually rather enjoyed this, truth be told.*

*Thinks very seriously about the "kid" question for possibly the first time in his lives.*

Pro: They don't eat me alive as I had previously feared.
Con: Some of them smell. It's true, some of them do smell.
Pro: They hung on my every word, which was kinda nice. :)
Con: The offspring of Fin and myself ( Read more... )

*Wakes at Caranthirë's to find that her and the babies are gone.*

*Gets up, lets himself out and staggers in the direction of his own abode.*

*Collapes on the sofa as soon as he gets in and falls asleep in no time.*

*Still has the post-it note stuck to his forehead.*

Having conducted a rigorous scientific investigation into the matter, I've decided that getting drunk doesn't actually solve any problems. It just makes you forget them temporarily, pee a lot and give you a headache in the morning. So I need a new strategy ( Read more... )

*Returns home after being enlightened by Caranthirë.*

*starts rummaging around the weapons racks, looking for suitable impressive-looking pointy objects.*

I won't stab...just threaten. No stabbing, I made a promise, promises are like oaths, YOU HAVE TO KEEP THEM! But I can still threaten, that's like oath small-print...

*Knows that all is not well in Finduilas land, but can't work out what the problem is because he's dense like that.*Decides to head off in search of Aredhel and ask her for advice, seeing as she's a sort-of mother-in-law that he can cope with, plus she understands all this girlie type stuff ( Read more... )