After supper, the family took to some card games and word games. Maitimo didn’t entirely feel like watching Fëanáro practically tear out Uncle Nolo’s throat for the sake of his fierce competition over these things—especially since Fëanáro had invented most of these word games—and besides, Maitimo’s weariness was catching up with him after several short nights of sleep. Since his brothers especially needed some extra cuddles while staying at an unfamiliar house, Maitimo certainly wasn’t about to lock them out, so he anticipated his usual wake-up ceremony from Tyelko and the twins before Laurelin’s first light. This way, at least he had a chance of catching up on some sleep.
Lost in his own thoughts, he stumbled into his dark guest room… and then he yelped as something heavy knocked him to the floor. A pair of warm hands closed around his wrists and pulled them behind his back, and somebody slipped a black cloth around his eyes. Three pairs of arms then hoisted him up and onto a chair, and then bound his wrists with rope.
Maitimo sighed. Another interrogation.
“Nelyafinwë,” said the cool voice of Curufinwë, “your behavior as of late has been suspicious. It is not typical for you to disappear during midday meal, since it is the most active time of day for the household. And we know you didn’t really get mushroom poisoning. We have determined you were up to something, and we find Kanafinwë’s excuse for you to be logically unsound.”
“Right,” Tyelko piped up. “First of all, there’s no mushroom I know of that causes sickness for exactly two hours. Second of all, you’re the one who taught me this, and you even stop me from trying the hallucinatory ones when we’re out camping.”
Curvo gave a hum of agreement. “We find it insulting to our intelligence to believe you could be so stupid all of a sudden.”
“So, what do you have to say for yourself?” Carnistir demanded. Maitimo could vaguely make out the orange glow of a lantern behind the blackness of the blindfold.
Curvo sighed in annoyance. “You were supposed to whip off the blindfold first and then shine the lantern in his face, Moryo.”
“Oh. Right,” Moryo said softly and sheepishly. “Should I do it now?”
“No! Not now that he knows the tactic! Just forget it.”
Though Curufinwë was the youngest of the three, a mere child nowhere near adolescence, he was the most calculated of the bunch and formed most of their plans.
“I’m very impressed with your intimidation tactics,” Maitimo told them. “Much improved since last time. But I will never talk.”
There was a long, drawn out silence before Carnistir growled, “Wrong answer.”
Maitimo heard some more shuffling movement before a cupful of ice-cold water splatted onto his lap, and he yelped.
“Feel that?” said Tyelko. “There’s a lot more where that came from. How would you like it if one of your pretty new curls took that?”
Maitimo cringed, but gritted his teeth and said nothing. Joke’s on you, he thought. Aranya can do my hair like that again tomorrow, suckers. The most unpleasant part would be enduring the icy temperature of the water, but he’d endure it for the sake of protecting the lady’s identity.
“You rascals are going to ruin Uncle Nolo’s furniture, and he’s not going to be happy about it,” he said dully.
“You really think we’re going to dump a bucket on you or something?” Curvo huffed in annoyance. “Come on, Nelyo, we’re not stupid. No. All we have to do is dip your hair in the bucket, one curly lock at a time, if and until you talk.”
“Which I won’t, so you might as well not waste your time.”
There was another tense silence before Curufinwë said coldly, “So be it.”
At least the brothers spoke the truth in that they didn’t dump their bucket of cold water right on Maitimo’s head. Maitimo felt them grab one of the locks, and then he felt a couple of cold droplets on his shoulder and chest. Tyelko took off the blindfold long enough for Maitimo to see the sad, limp lock, and then he replaced the blindfold.
“Any change of heart?” Tyelko asked.
Maitimo shook his head, refusing to say another word.
So the brothers continued to soak his hair in the cold water one lock at a time, continually probing him with questions, but he refused to answer any of them. It wasn’t long before he began to shiver as the wet hair clung to his chest and back, and by the time the brothers were done, his teeth were chattering. But his lips remained sealed.
The three brothers exchanged an unnerved glance. Normally, Maitimo readily told them whatever he was up to, sometimes even spoiling surprises he planned for their begetting days. And their ruining his hairstyle was perhaps the meanest and most unpleasant thing they’d done so far, yet he still wouldn’t talk.
“Clearly I’m not going to tell you anything,” Maitimo said between shivers. “Can you leave me alone now and let me clean up? And warm up?”
The brothers whispered to each other before Curvo muttered, “I suppose.”
Was it just Maitimo’s imagination, or was that a twinge of guilt in his voice?
The brothers removed his blindfold and untied his wrists. Tyelko, avoiding Maitimo’s gaze, handed him a dry towel. Maitimo sighed with annoyance, squeezing the water out of his hair as his brothers all silently filed out of the room.
“What was that?” Moryo whispered as they walked down the hallway. “Normally he lets us practice our tactics at first, and he puts on a stubborn show of resistance before eventually talking. Why didn’t he talk this time? It must be serious.”
“I think… I think it’s a girl,” Tyelko said, his voice and eyes somber.
Moryo and Curvo scoffed at him, but he continued, “Think about it! We all know he acts strangely around níssi. It has to be the only explanation. Besides,” he lowered his voice and grinned widely, “I think I know who it is. I saw him, yesterday, become an absolute awkward wreck in front of somebody.”
“Well then,” said Curvo, “there’s only one way to find out for sure.”
This is my contribution for Day 1 of T&M Week! This is an excerpt from Ill Chances and Strange Fates, Chapter 3. So, Maitimo started to train his brothers in the art of war at an early age, even though it was only under the guise of a game at first. And after all the calculations and strategies from Curufin and Caranthir, Tyelko was the one to accurately pinpoint the reason for Maitimo's weird mood. This goes to show how well Tyelko understands Timo, despite their many differences. Hope you enjoyed this, and if you liked it, please feel free to check out the rest of the fic!
