Hello! So, I know. Procrastinating and then going off on other things isn't a good habit of mine. In fact, this is one of the worse habits where I decide that I want this to become multi-chaptered.
Basically, it's random parts of Fëanorian lifestyle in Valinor. I don't want any depressing things to come in until towards the end of this thing, whenever it's going to end anyway.

Have fun reading! Do tell me what you think about it at the end!

It was a nice day, light, and the sky was filled with pretty clouds. Far away, one could see a leaf-shaped ear, attached to the body of an Elf, in the clouds, watching carefully the seven boys beneath the blue vault. Everything was peaceful, grass whistled with the wind, and the boys' father was sure to get onto them for going outside to play when it was time for them to resume their studies. But they all knew that their father would not do anything too harmful. A son might get such a duty as scrubbing the horse stables clean, perhaps, but nothing life-threatening like hanging from the Mindon by his own breeches. At least, they all hoped their father wouldn't assign such a punishment.

"Brothers, don't you think we should go inside?" asked the eldest of the boys, a copper-haired youth whose face was lively and eyes shined with pride and stars. "Father will probably realise that we are outside, since we are not making noise in the forge."

"Russandol," sighed the only light-haired boy amongst them. He ran a calloused hand through his hair, ridding from that part pieces of stray grass that had stuck. "Stop worrying so much. Let's just have fun while we have fun."

"That sounds exactly like something you would say, Tyelkormo," grumbled the younger dark-haired boy, closing up the book that he had been reading.

The one called Russandol slung an arm around the boy who had addressed Tyelkormo. "See? Moryo agrees with me." Then, seeing Tyelkormo ready to argue his point, he prepared another statement. "In essense," he amended. "Anyone who disagrees with you—" he pulled Tyelkormo into a headlock and ruffled his hair; "—obviously agrees with me. Now, come on, let's go back inside. The lesson is bound to begin any minute, and the instructress won't have us late this time. She was upset when we skipped class yesterday."

"You fancy her!" chorused the two twins in a sing-song voice. They resembled their eldest brother very much, by hair, though it was more of the uncanny resemblance to each other that surprised everyone else at first. "No one else would care for offending Indo, right, Curvo?"

"Indo is wedded," pointed out Curvo, shaking his head with a sigh.

Tyelkormo couldn't help but add the one statement that made his eldest brother bristle. "Maitimo, you are indeed too far gone if you have been captivated by a wedded woman. There is no saving you now, no matter how long you are on your knees before the Valar..."

Though Maitimo and Russandol were indeed the same person, Tyelkormo had the unfortunate habit of confusing everyone else when he referred to his eldest red-haired brother as both. When all seven brothers were introduced at once, it was usually Tyelkormo who spoke the greetings and farewells, the 'this is' statements, and sarcastic explanations to the twins finishing each other's sentences when trying to stumble across each other's words to introduce themselves by themselves. However, the young fair-haired Elf did not bother to tell anyone else that Maitimo had yet another name, and people would then become puzzled. Most of the time, the people would be a throng of young girls.

Maitimo blushed at the statement. "I do not!" he exclaimed, removing his arm from Moryo's shoulders and stepping away.

Then, he nearly stumbled into the only sleeping brother, as he backed away from the pinning stares of his younger brothers. The boy's eyes immediately cleared from their glazed state, and he rolled away quickly as soon as the heel of Maitimo's boot dug into the hem of his tunic, and luckily not his hip bone.

"Sorry, Macalaurë!" apologised Maitimo, catching his balance. "Are you finally awake?"

"I was never asleep. I was simply listening to your apparent affection for our instructress," Macalaurë replied, standing up and rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Is it time for our lesson?"

Tyelkormo groaned. "Both of you are two of the same mind! You're like Curvo and Father; except the two of you look nothing alike."

"If you look at it this way," said Moryo, "the only twins of our family by considering resemblance are Pityo and Telvo, and Father and Curvo."

"Well said." Tyelkormo obviously agreed, by the nodding of his head.

Macalaurë simply sighed. "We should just be off to our lesson. The path to our house is a five minute walk, and I have no intention of dallying where I could have spent an extra five minutes—"

"—on your lyre," finished Curvo, knowing exactly what Macalaurë would say.

Sometimes, the second eldest brother was just too easy to predict, and he couldn't lie to save his life. One could see easily by glancing through his icy blue eyes—the clearest cold teal that could not conceal as much as one single falsehood if he was aware of it—if he was telling a lie or not.

"Boys!"

Five of them froze in their standing position. The twins simply laughed and ran over to their mother, joyful expressions upon their faces as they tackled her gently. Soft fabric came tumbling from the laundry basket she held as she carefully lowered them all into the grass, a delighted light in her eyes as she petted both of them. With some sort of signal of relief, each son came over to the red-haired woman with a smile. Maitimo, as the responsible, mature son, gathered the scattered clothing, and Macalaurë, his frequent helper, held out the basket for him to place them in as soon as Maitimo finished folding them properly. Years of experience came from changing the clothes of young brothers who had upchucked their own dinner the five minutes before, and then folding them carefully as to conceal the persistent food that kept coming back up. At least Mother would not be angry with him if she did not who had done it.

"Mother, why are you out here?" asked Tyelkormo, curiosity getting a hold of him first.

"Your father wanted me to tell you that Indo has decided to relieve herself of today's lesson because it will no doubt cause you all to fall asleep again like the week before," said their mother, an amused smile playing on her lips. "Besides that, Maitimo, you have a visitor. And though I am quite surprised to find that the positions of courtship are reversed in your case, I am not too surprised to find that she has already familiarised herself with our courtyard. Tell me—did you ask a young Miss Ilvanya to visit you today, at precisely this hour of Laurelin's waning?"

Maitimo paled, and Macalaurë looked to him questioningly as Tyelkormo fell to the grass, laughing so hard that he pounded the ground in an attempt to find a surface to support his energetic chortling. Nerdanel did not seem like she was one to laugh at the situation, but if Maitimo let slip that Ilvanya was simply following him everywhere he went, he knew she would laugh at him too.

"This young Miss Ilvanya," continued Nerdanel, "has claimed that she would become your suitor if you would not step forth with courage to become hers."

"She's insistent, isn't she, Maitimo?" choked Tyelkormo, finally rising as he wiped tears of laughter from his dark grey eyes. "Go on; tell Mother who Ilvanya is." As Maitimo shot several dagger-like glares to his younger brother, Nerdanel raised an eyebrow.

"Nelyafinwë," she said in a no-nonsense tone, though she was still smiling. He winced as he listened to his ataressë come from his mother's mouth. It was never good if she referred to him as such. And especially when she had such a facial expression! "Who is Ilvanya? I cannot remove from the house a guest that I do not know."

"I think that is her," said Macalaurë, pointing to a dark-haired figure stumbling through the forest and into the grassy plains, an alarmed look on her face as she came to a stop before the mother and her seven sons. "Okay, yes, that is definitely her. Good day, Ilvanya."

Ilvanya's eyes widened; she disregarded any greeting to her and had eyes only for the tall red-haired Elf who stood there awkwardly, towering over five of his brothers and his mother. Macalaurë was the only one who had almost caught up to height with him.

"O' Maitimo!" She hurried forth and wrapped her fingers round his forearm, holding his limb to her as her eyes closed. "Why did you not tell me your father was so frightening?"

This provoked another round of laughter from Tyelkormo as Maitimo flushed miserably.

Nerdanel's smile grew wider. "Shall we go back for lunch?"

The young girl looked even more miserable than Maitimo at this point. "Lady Nerdanel, I would not wish to intrude... Maitimo, may I speak to you for a moment? Alone?"

Maitimo's dignity was already shredded—why not feed it to the dogs as well? Still, he needed to receive prompting from Tyelkormo who not-so-subtly shoved him towards the forest, sending him stumbling into Ilvanya who squeaked and blushed red as she led him away into the cover of tall trees.

As Maitimo emerged from the forest, he looked absolutely abject. He absentmindedly skimmed his fingers over the red imprint of a palm on the left side of his handsome face. Well, now it wasn't really that handsome with the symmetry gone, but if there had been another slap mark from Ilvanya, perhaps he would have looked more conventional. Luckily, Nerdanel had already left to complete the next round of laundry, taking the basket, Moryo, Curvo, and the twins with her, leaving two eventually amused boys to watch their eldest brother exit the forest and enter the grassy plains of bound humiliation.

"Eru, Maitimo, what did you say?" asked Tyelkormo, trying hard to hold in his laughter for the sake of making his brother feel less embarrassed.

Maitimo's voice was drenched in chagrin as he attempted to voice his reply quickly and unintelligibly.

"Maitimo, speak slower," Macalaurë told him, gently using his fingertips, the skilled fingertips of a musician, to peruse the red bruise on Maitimo's cheek. He looked sympathetic when his older brother winced. Ilvanya must have been very upset.

"I told her," said Maitimo, slowly, taking Macalaurë's hand into his own and pulling it from the source of stinging pain; "that I was in love with someone else."

"Really? Who?"

Tyelkormo grinned. "You said Indo, didn't you?"

Maitimo looked just about ready to die then. "Yes..."

Macalaurë simply pursed his lips with a sigh. "Come you two. We must be getting back."

As the three of them attempted to cross the bridge across the small river, Maitimo said, hurriedly, "She wouldn't let me speak for half of the time, and when she finally allowed herself room to breathe, I just blurted out that I loved Indo! And I don't! Eru, what will Ilvanya think of me now, since I have just revealed the lie of loving a married woman? She will call down the thunder from the sky to smite me! Aye, I hate to see what will happen if Mother and Father find out!"

"They won't," Macalaurë and Tyelkormo assured him. "We won't let that happen."